In That First Year
by sparklyeyedgal
Summary: Snape is the newest professor at Hogwarts. Lyric is in her last year at Hogwarts. How will the she greet the former DeathEater? With intense hatred or undeniable intrigue. Ch 25! SSOC
1. Trainride Home

_Okay, this story started out as something completely different. But I liked where it ended up, though I don't know where it's going. I want to explore these characters during HP's time, so this may end up as a few different stories. Please read and review. Happy comments make me want to write, mean comments make me want to shrivel up and die._

_Disclaimer: Not mine…never has been, never will be (tear). I am not JKR, and I did not steal her work and have no intention to. (Remember kids: plagiarism is the devil!) _

**Chpt. 1-Trainride Home**

Lyric Dumbledore sat quietly in the train while all of her friends walked in and out of the train car laughing and talking. They were all on their way to Hogwarts, and this was their seventh and final year. Lyric was sad to be leaving the school. For so many years, it had been home. No one seemed to notice how quiet she was being. Her two best friends, Iona Grady and Tristan Merton, sat daring each other to eat the puce-colored Bertie Bott's Bean in front of them.

Iona was an exotic beauty. She had long thick black hair, deep chocolate colored eyes, and a perpetually perfect tan. Her father had been an English business man that traveled to Mexico and fell in love with her mother, a descendant of Mayan Indians. Her mother had also been a witch, which came as quite a shock to her father on their honeymoon. Despite looking like some untouchable Mexican princess, Iona had a sunny disposition and bubbly personality.

Tristan looked like he belonged on the cover of a men's fashion magazine. He was nearly six and a half tall, very lean, and the most amazing blue eyes. His dirty blonde hair was always tousled, but it just gave him that too-cool-to-do-my-hair look. He hadn't always looked quite the same. When he arrived at Hogwarts as a first year, he barely hit five feet and was "pleasantly plump", according to his mother. Somewhere between his second and third year, he suddenly became very attractive, and grabbed the attention of girls much older than him. He swore that Professor Trelawney had been making passes at for years. His parents were both wizards, as well as his three younger sisters, the youngest of which was just starting her first year.

Lyric had always felt a little out of place around such two attractive people until this past summer. For some reason, she felt her looks had finally come together. Her big sage green eyes had always been her best feature, but after her flat brown hair had been bleached to a sweet honey color by the summer sun, her eyes became far more intense and enchanting. Then once unmanageable curls had softened, given her the look of a wood nymph. And Lyric was happy to admit that she no longer feared ending up with one of her cousins' body-types: the bean-pole look or the azalea bush. Though no one could tell through her robes Lyric had finally developed the feminine curves that she had always hoped for. She was no where near as endowed as Iona, but she was definitely feeling more like a woman. She was actually a bit depressed though that no one commented on her new found beauty, except for Iona who had proclaimed "You're stacked!" after seeing Lyric in her swimsuit at the beach this summer.

"C'mon," cried Tristan, "I ate the clear one, and it turned out to be moonshine. I'm still a bit tipsy."

A little over an hour ago, Tristan had been slightly more drunk, and had treated all of his friends to a stirring rendition of the Hogwarts school song wearing nothing but his school scarf tied around his waist to a fashion a loin-cloth type outfit. He had thoroughly frightened a group of second year girls looking for the bathroom, though she knew they would giggle about it in the halls for the entire school year. Lyric wasn't sure if it really was the moonshine singing or if Tristan just used it as an excuse. He was known for being the life-of-the-party.

"So," cried Iona, "I ate the grass clippings bean and the blood bean, and admit it, you liked the moonshine.   
It gave you an excuse to act like an ass."

Lyric tore herself away from feeling melancholy and laughed at her two best friends. The two of them had spent every train ride to and from school since they were first years testing for the most disgusting flavors. So far they had vomit, bile, rocks, fish skins, and haggis on their list. Tristan kept begging for Iona to let him stick rum-raisin on the list, citing it the worst flavor ever invented by Muggles.

"Fine, I'll do it," Tristan finally gave in. He popped the bean in his mouth and immediately regretted it. He spit out the bean and began to dry heave as Iona laughed uncontrollably.

"What was it?" she asked in between fits of laughter.

"I can't be totally sure, but I think it was a moldy orange," he coughed out. He then took a large swing of pumpkin juice. "Oh God! The flavor just sticks in your mouth."

"Here," said Iona, shoving a brown colored bean at Tristan, "it's chocolate."

Tristan's eyes widened as after taking a bite of the bean. "Ack! It's worse," he shouted, "rum-raisin."

Iona and Lyric lost themselves at that point. Tristan ran the restrooms to try and wash the taste out of his mouth. They kept laughing until their sides hurt.

Two identical looking girls popped into the train cart. Amarantha and Amaryllis Parker were close friends with Lyric and Iona, as the four had been roommates since the first year. Though they looked alike with their shoulder-length blonde hair and navy blues eyes, the girls were as different as night and day. Amarantha was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, while Amaryllis was the Head Girl for Gryffindor and top of their class. Amarantha was terribly outspoken, while Amaryllis remained the shy, quiet type. The one thing they both had in common was a desire for Tristan.

"What so funny?" asked Amaryllis.

"Tristan got a moldy orange flavored bean," Iona answered after calming down from laughing.

"Oh, that's disgusting! I tell you, I gave up on those beans after eating one I swear tasted like a dust bunny," said Amarantha, who had an anecdote for everything. She sat down next to Iona as Amaryllis took a seat next to Lyric. "So, what's new with the world?" Amarantha needed to catch up on her gossip.

"Nothing much," said Iona. "My father flipped when I told him I wasn't going to a Muggle university like he had planned on."

"What did he think you were gonna do next year? Study Muggle medicine? Be a banker? Honestly, what did you think you were going to Magic school for?" Complaining about parents was another favorite hobby of Amarantha's.

"I don't know," Iona said. "I told him I was going to be an astrologer and he just had to leave the room. Lucky for him though, my brother will be getting a 'proper education' at a normal boarding school." Iona's brother had no discernable magical ability, though he secretly practiced simple spells from Iona's textbooks. "What about you girls?" asked Iona.

"Our father is in trouble with the Ministry for telling a co-worker that we were magic. Luckily, the man just thought Dad was using a metaphor," the twins parents were both Muggles, so it came as quite a shock when the two of them got acceptance letters to Hogwarts. They still had a difficult time with the idea of secrecy.

"Oh, just to warn you girls, Skeeter is on the loose looking for stories. She already has enough for two issues of the Wart Report."

Rita Skeeter was another seventh year. She belonged in Ravenclaw. Her main passion in life was "reporting" the news. The Wart Report was the school gossip paper that she published by herself. Despite everyone hating her and knowing she was a complete hack, the paper remained one of the more highly read pieces at Hogwarts, much to the chagrin of the professors, who would have preferred that students picked up a textbook a little more often.

Just then, Tristan appeared in the doorway. "Ladies, ladies, ladies," he said pompously, "looks like I'm a lucky man this afternoon."

The twins said nothing. Tristan was the only thing that shut Amarantha up. They quickly made excuses to leave and headed back to their train car.

"So," said Tristan, "while I was in the restroom, I overheard some fourth years talking about the Potters."

"I wish people would leave that poor boy alone," said Lyric sadly, "I realize we're all excited about being rid of You-Know-How, but the poor child lost his parents."

"That's the thing, an anonymous source has told the Prophet that the boy actually died. They're just saying he survived and they're hiding him so that the Ministry can boost morale."

"Tristan, that's just some ridiculous rumor. Of course it happened. No one would ever think to label a dead child as The-Boy-Who-Lived," Lyric was angry know. She had know the Potter family for years and used to baby-sit for Harry. She was one of the few people to see the boy after Voldemort's attack. She was sworn never to talk about it though.

"Yes, but-" Tristan began.

"Tristan please," Lyric interrupted, "this is depressing, and you're ruining my last train ride to school."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I also heard that the Professor Slughorn retired over the summer," Tristan added excitedly. He loved to be the first one to get news.

"Really," asked Iona, "I figured that old goat would teach until he just keeled over in the middle of class on top of his cauldron. Who's his replacement?"

"That, I cannot tell you," Tristan said. "But since the old man didn't know very much about being a Potions master, the job could pretty much go to anyone with half a brain cell." Both Tristan and Iona turned to Lyric at the same time. "Did you're uncle mention anything?"

Lyric rolled her eyes. She was used to people asking her about going ons at the school. Her uncle was Headmaster after all, but Tristan and Iona knew that it was a strict family policy not to discussed school matters.

"I know less than you do Tristan," she replied annoyed. Lyric then turned out the window and watched the world go by. Tristan and Lyric continued discussing possibilities for professors. Outside, the sky was turning dark and stormy. Lyric could just make out the tall towers of Hogwarts in the distance. Despite the weather, she was filled with a new warmness, she was home.


	2. Old Hat and New Potions

**Chpt. 2-An Old Hat and New Potions**

By the time they got off the train, the dark and stormy skies had turned to a full-blown monsoon. Rain poured from the sky as lightening and thunder threatened everyone in its path. Hagrid, the groundskeeper, was standing with a lantern screaming over the noise of the storm for the first years to follow him. A small red-headed first year ran head on into Tristan, not watching where he was going.

The boy looked up at Tristan, frightened by his height. "Sorry," he managed to squeak out before running off.

"Why are all of the first years so terrified of me?" Tristan asked.

"Probably because you're over six feet tall, and that can be intimidating," Iona answered. "Or the fact you were dancing around naked on the train."

Crossing the lake to Hogwarts can often be a very relaxing journey. But with the storm, it was more akin to be shaken fiercely, dunked in ice cold water, and trying like hell not to heave your lunch over the side of the boat.

As soon as the boats landed, everyone scrambled to get out of the rain and into the main dining hall. Upon entering, everyone's clothes were magically dried, and the students were suddenly very warm. The first years were in awe of the dining hall. To the older kids, it was familiar, and heartwarming.

Iona, Tristan, and Lyric took their seats at the Gryffindor table and waited for the Sorting ceremony to begin. This was Lyric's favorite part of getting to school. She loved watching the frightened first years nervously wait to be sorted. As the students settled in their seats, the house ghosts entered the dining hall to see their houses students.

"Well hello Tristan!" bellowed Nearly Headless Nick.

"Hello, Sir Nicholas. How was you're summer?"

"Pretty good I suppose, I guess I spent most of it in high _spirits_," laughed Nick. He made this same cheesy pun every year, and the students were forced to laugh politely. "Ooh, first years. Forgive me, I'm off to bother them. Got to show them what it means to be Nearly Headless."

The Sorting Hat was brought out and the first years called one by one.

"Abernathy, Huberta," called Professor McGonagall.

_Hufflepuff_

Adams, Geoffrey."

_Slytherin _

The list continued through all of the first years.

"Mack, Conrad"

_Ravenclaw_

"Merton, Tallula"

_Gryffindor_

"That's my girl," shouted Tristan at his baby sister. She looked about the same as Tristan in his first year, but given the way his other sisters, Tara and Tamara now looked, Tallula had nothing to worry about. Tara was a third year and surrounded by boys fighting to get her attention, and fifth year Tamara had a Gryffindor boy's arm place firmly across her shoulders. That is until Tristan gave the boy the look of death.

The list went on and on until McGonagall reached the last name.

"Weasley, William." It was the little red head that had ran into Tristan.

_Gryffindor_

The Sorting was complete, and all of the first years settled with their houses. The hall was alive with chatter. Then an old silver bearded man with twinkling blue eyes and purple robes stood up, everyone immediately got quiet. Lyric smiled privately, it was her beloved uncle, Albus Dumbledore.

"Students," he began, "this is a very special year for Hogwarts. The apparent defeat of the Dark Lord has left the Wizarding World with a new sense of joy and jubilation."

The students erupted in cheers, though the Slytherin table looked somewhat less thrilled than the rest of the students. Dumbledore raised his hand, and the hall fell silent again. "And though we can be truly grateful for the recent turn of events, we must not forget those that suffered at the hand of such Dark Magic. I can only hope than none among us now could ever consider performing the dark deeds performed by those Dark wizards. My heart goes out to all those here who have lost friends and family. We honor your losses in the highest regards. I am confident that every witch and wizard here today will never lose sight of the magic that binds us all." Again the students cheered. "Now, down to official Hogwarts business. It has been many years since we felt safe here at Hogwarts. I'm sure you older students know about the heightened security measures that were taken. So, this year, I am pleased to announce that we will be reinstating the visits to Hogsmeade for our students in or above their third year."

This announcement got a very large applause from the seven years. The visits to Hogsmeade had been cancelled at the end of their second year, so they had never been able to attend. Finally, their last year at Hogwarts and they would get their chance.

When the noise died down, Dumbledore continued, "You will need permission from your parents of guardians, though. Please use the school owls at your disposal. There are some new faces among our staff this year. As you can see, we have a new Herbology professor. Allow me to introduce Professor Sprout. We have Professor Wendell Ripley taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

This was no shock; in the seven years that Lyric had been at Hogwarts, there had been five Dark Arts professors. No one lasted long in that position.

Dumbledore continued, "And I regret to inform you that our beloved Potions master, Professor Slughorn, has retired. In his place is Professor Severus Snape," he pointed to the pale, greasy-haired man sitting at his right.

The name Snape echoed in the large hall and fell silent. Then, the silent room fell even quieter. Fear and hatred filled the faces of the students. From all over the hall, whispers of "murderer," "death-eating scum," and "evil" filled the room.

Tristan turned to Lyric, his eyes bugging out of his head. "Your uncle hired a suspected Death-Eater as our new Potions master. Bloody hell, the old man must have finally gone off his rocker."

Lyric would normally hit anyone that criticized her uncle; however, she was also astonished at her uncle's decision. The pandemonium grew. Some students had left their seats and were headed for the door.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and shouted "_Silencio_!" across the room. Students immediately shut up, as they found they could no longer open their mouths. Dumbledore took a moment to collect himself, while Snape leered at the students. "There is no reason to fear this man. Charges were never brought against him, and he was never convicted of any crime. He is innocent. I have the utmost confidence that Professor Snape is no more a threat to the safety of Hogwarts than I am. Because I trust him, I ask that you will too."

With that, students found themselves able to speak again, but they also found themselves with nothing to say. Those who had gotten out of their seats, sat back down quietly. They wanted to trust their beloved headmaster, but they also had heard stories about Death-Eaters that still haunted their dreams. The air in the school had definitely sombered a bit, and the students ate dinner with hardly any chatter.

After dinner, the students were asked to retire to their quarters, and they silently followed.

"With me, Gryffindor first years," said Amaryllis as she prepared to lead them to Gryffindor hall. Lyric caught up with her.

"I'm going to see my uncle," said Lyric, "what's the password to Gryffindor?"

"Hookah bar," she replied, "Did you know about the new professor?"

"Amaryllis, you know better than anyone that he doesn't discuss these things with me," Lyric was again annoyed.

"Right, I knew that," she responded. "I'll see you later tonight."

"Yeah," Lyric called out as she made her way to her uncle's office.


	3. Trust Me

**Chpt. 3-Trust Me**

Lyric stood before the statue trying desperately to guess the new password.

"Treacle tart." Nothing.

"Fizz-whizzles." Nothing. She though for a minute.

"Sherbet Lemon." The statue stepped aside and wall opened to reveal a spiral staircase. Lyric laughed, her uncle had talked of nothing else in his letters all summer. Sometimes, he was rather predictable.

When she entered the room, Dumbledore sat at his desk playing with a strange metallic cylinder-shaped thing that appeared to be made of a wire spiral.

"What on earth is that?" she asked her uncle.

"Muggle toy," he responded, "they call it a Slinky. It is quite adept at walking down stairs by itself."

"Strange breed those Muggles are."

"I don't know, I thought is rather inventive," Dumbledore put the Slinky away in a drawer that no doubt contained several dozen other Slinkys. Lyric's uncle had a habit of collecting strange Muggle artifacts that caught his fancy. Last year, Lyric had received four different colored yo-yos for Christmas, and Dumbledore seemed quite proud of them. "Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to give your favorite uncle a hug?"

Lyric happily obliged. It had been months since she had seen him. She wrapped her arms around the man and held tight. When they broke she stood back and asked "Notice anything different about me?" She hoped that at least her uncle would notice her newfound beauty.

"No, not that I can tell. What is it?"

"Nothing," she replied sadly, "just seeing if you could see something I didn't."

"Come now, sit. Tell me, how is your mother, dear girl?"

"Fine," she responded indifferently, "happy now that I'm back in school. She can travel freely without me weighing her down."

"Now Lyric, you know don't she doesn't feel that way. But it's her job. It's the life a Tritondon. She must go where the mermaids are." Lyric mother was responsible for gathering information from Mermaid colonies all over the world. The Ministry of Magic liked to keep tabs on these colonies to prevent the Muggles from discovering them.

"I know," Lyric said sadly, but perked up a bit, "This summer wasn't all bad. Got to go to Fiji. So while Mom worked all day, I laid out on the beach."

"Sounds like fun," he said happy for his niece, "but it also sounds like a missed opportunity to learn something. You are still studying to go into Cryptozoology, aren't you?" He chided his neice.

"I know, but all she saw was the mermaids, and I already know more about them then I'd ever want to know," she defended herself.

"There is always a lesson in studying what you already know," he said sagely. As much as Lyric loved her uncle, she was always annoyed when he began to sound like a fortune cookie.

"Well, maybe next summer then."

"How is she, about, your father?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Getting better, she misses him. We both do, but I think she is getting ready to move on." Lyric's father and Dumbledore's much younger brother had been killed by Voldemort when he was just rising to power. His death devastated the family, and Dumbledore had always felt partly responsible. It was him that the Dark Lord wanted, not his brother.

"Good, give her my love next time you talk," he asked.

"Of course." There was a slight awkward pause. Lyric wanted to ask him about the Snape, but she was terrified to being up the subject.

"You want to know about my latest employments?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Well… yes. How did you know?" she was surprised at his forwardness.

"Lucky guess. My dear girl, I realize that you have heard certain things about Severus Snape that make you uneasy around him-"

"Uneasy?" she interrupted, "How about horrified? Terrified? Scared shitless? That bastard ought to be rotting in Azkaban for all he's done, not sitting on a cushy teaching job. This is fucking madness!" She stopped quickly, realizing she had just cursed. She was surprised at her outburst.

"I trust him," he said calmly, ignoring his niece's language. "There is no evidence that the man has done anything illegal. When the Dark Lord fell, people began to point fingers at everyone, even the innocent. He has done nothing wrong," Dumbledore sounded as calm as ever.

"How do you know that?" Lyric voiced had lowered considerably, but was still dripping with anger.

"I just do," he tenderly grabbed his niece's hand. "My girl, I know you are hurting because of your father's death and you want to blame someone. But Professor Snape is not the one to blame."

"But-" she began, but just then the door to Dumbledore's office swung open. Lyric remained facing her uncle, but she could feel eyes boring into the back of her head. Without looking, she knew who it was. Snape.

"I wanted to discuss with you the possibility of becoming the new head of Slytherin. I realize that last their last staff head is gone, and since that was my house, I'd be happy to do the job," his voiced hissed into the room.

Lyric worried that he had just heard her outbursts. She felt her face grow hot. She didn't know if it was from embarrassment or hatred. Maybe both. She turned to face him, and all the blood drained from her face.

"Of course," Dumbledore answered happily, "just give me a minute, have you met my niece?"

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure," he cocked his head to the side as if examining her. He then walked across the room to greet the girl. Lyric felt more and more frightened with every step he took. "I am Professor Snape." He held out his hand to shake, Lyric didn't want to touch him.

After a somewhat awkward pause in which Lyric decided she must take his hand, she introduced herself. "Lyric Dumbledore," she squeaked, taking his hand. She was surprised. From the look of this man, his handshake should have been ice cold and crushing, but his touch was warming as he gently shook Lyric's hand. For some unknown reason, the fear in her heart vanished, and was replaced by something she had never felt before.

"Good to meet you," his voice was as ice cold as Lyric had expected his touch to be. The fear rushed back to Lyric's heart. She remained silent.

"Come along dear, I'll walk you out," said Dumbledore in his cheeriest voice. He walked Lyric to the door, dropped a small package in her hand, and kissed her on the forehead. "Come back and visit soon, darling, I love to hear from you. And about what we were discussing," he said in a much quieter tone, "I need you to just trust me. I am your uncle, not some crazy old kook. It will make sense to you someday."

"I hope so," she said giving Snape one last look. His black eyes stared right back. There was something hiding there, she didn't know quite what.

Lyric slowly walked through the halls back to her dormitory. She stopped to open the package her uncle had given her. It was a Slinky.

"If it isn't Lyric," a voice called above her head. "More like… Rear-lick!"

"Nice try Peeves, but you used that one in my fourth year. I found it rather inventive, though." Lyric hated the poltergeist with a burning passion, but Dumbledore had taught her to just act nice to the little bugger.

"Well, then," Peeves paused to think of a new cruel nickname, "Deer-tick?"

"Nope, did that the first year. You keep thinking about it, I'll catch up with you later," Lyric had arrived at the Portrait of the Lady. "Hookah bar," Lyric called out to the lady, and crawled inside the opening.


	4. Hula Skirts and Dark Thoughts

**Chpt. 4- Hula Skirts and Dark Thoughts**

Lyric walked into the Gryffindor common room to find Tristan clutching a Butterbeer and leading the first year boys around in a conga line dressed in nothing but grass skirts and coconut bras. Tristan was back in the scarf loin cloth number. Lyric was not surprised at all by the spectacle. Every year, Tristan did something horribly stupid and embarrassing to the first year boys as two of his roommates, Peyton Pembroke and Keith Adler, took pictures. The next day, the pictures were developed and posted all over the school to serve as an animated reminder that first years should never trust Tristan Merton.

Last year, he waited until all of the first years were asleep. He then snuck into their rooms and wrote silly remarks on their chests in permanent ink. Those second year boys are still referred to by what was written on their chest. Right now, "I Like Boys" "Balls are the Best" and "Will Strip for Acceptance" were happily watching the new students, knowing that their teasing would soon stop.

And the year before that, Tristan had convinced the first years that on the first day of class, all students painted their faces in their house colors. He then mixed up some permanent face paint and set to work on the boys. It was nearly Christmas before the last face was entirely free of red and gold paint.

Tristan's greatest feat was not pulling off these pranks, but never getting in trouble for them. Tristan had such the personality and charm that professors just laughed at the pranks, citing that no one every got really hurt. Even his victims loved him, as Tristan treated them all like his best friend after having a laugh at their expense.

Lyric found Iona sitting in the corner enjoying the show, Iona smiled and tossed her a Butterbeer. "So what did he tell them this time?" She had to talk loud to be heard over the music.

"Something about the traditional hula dance of Godric Gryffindor. He told them all firsties have to do, lest the ghost of Godric will come to haunt them," Iona had always been jealous that she could never think of anything to get the girls. "Suppose we tell them it's tradition for all first year girls to go streaking on the Quidditch fields. You think they'd go for that?"

"Iona, this is something boys do. Girls, even first year girls, are far too smart to fall for something like this. And besides that, I'm beginning to believe that boys just enjoy getting naked, or half naked. Without any reason or purpose. They just like it."

"Yeah, well, I still want to get the girls," Iona pouted. She stared at the boys for another minute before asking Lyric about her conversation with Dumbledore.

"He said that I am to trust him," Lyric yelled over the conga. "I want to, but Snape gives me the creeps. He came into Uncle Albie's office while I was there. Every time he spoke, I think my heart stopped. It was weird, though, went he went to shake my hand, I expected it to be cold and bony, but it was actually quite warm."

"So, you're going to base this man's character on the temperature of his hand?" she asked sarcastically.

"Well…no, I was just saying it was warm," Lyric trailed off. Iona got a silly smile across her face, "Oh, God Iona, that's completely pervvie."

Iona kept on smiling, "Well, you were the one to make a big deal out of his hands."

"I didn't mean to suggest that he was masturbating!" Lyric yelled. The entire room was very quiet. The music had cut out just as Lyric had gotten to the end of her sentence. The Gryffindor common room erupted into laughter as Lyric turned an unflattering shade of pink. "Well, now that I've managed to embarrass myself," she called to the whole room, "I'll be off to my room." This drew even bigger laughs. "Not to do that! Honestly, you'd act like you're all a bunch of unruly, hormone-ridden teenagers."

"To hormones!" Tristan yelled as raised his Butterbeer high in the air.

"To hormones!" shouted the rest of the Gryffindors.

Lyric made her way up to her room to find Amarantha already unpacked and in the best bed. She didn't waste anytime in getting down to facts. "So, did you talk to your uncle about the new professor?"

Lyric wanted to ignore the question, but she knew Amarantha would never shut up if did. Not that Amarantha would ever shut up. "I did," she started reluctantly, "and he asked that I just trust him."

"Do you?" she asked

"I don't know," Lyric was truly at a loss. "On the one head, he is my uncle, and I have always trusted his judgment before."

"But…" Amarantha egged her continue.

"But, Snape just makes me feels strange inside," Lyric made a face as she talked.

"What kind of strange?" Amarantha was listening intently.

"What do mean?" Lyric asked defensively.

"Strange, as in creepy? Strange, as in he's about to eat your soul? Strange, as in butterflies in the stomach and sweaty palms?"

"All three?" Lyric wasn't quite sure herself.

"Oh…My…God!" Amarantha stretched out her words.

"What?" Lyric was confused.

"You like him?" Amarantha said with a smile.

"Who, Snape?" The idea made Lyric want to vomit. "God Amarantha, that's disgusting. He's got to be at least in his thirties."

"So, that appeals to a lot of girls who miss their daddies." Amarantha was a nice girl, but she sometimes crossed the line.

"Okay, that officially ends the conversation. And if you mention that to anyone, I'll shove your precious broomstick right up your ass." Lyric quickly put on her pajamas and crawled into bed. As she tried to drift off to sleep, she had visions in her head of a certain Death-Eater killing her uncle and torturing her to no end. She sat up in bed. "I hate you Amarantha!"

"Yeah, why's that?" she asked amused.

"Cause now you put this idea in my head."

"Sorry, love. I just call them as I see them." And with that, Amarantha switched out the lights and crawled into bed. Leaving Lyric alone in the dark with her thoughts.


	5. Trouble at Breakfast

**Chpt. 5- The Trouble at Breakfast**

Lyric woke up at six, while the rest of the girls were sleeping. She tip-toed to the girls' bathroom. Lyric had always gotten up early, hoping to avoid the other girls while in the shower. She climbed into the first stall and let the hot water run over her. After just standing there for nearly twenty minutes, she washed her hair, and debated shaving her legs. She opted for no, as she heard a group of girls enter the bathroom. She switched the water off, grabbed her towel and robe, and quickly ran back to her room.

A new girl had moved into their room, since as Head Girl, Amaryllis got her own room. Lyric recognized her as Griselda Orland. In the seven years that had been at Hogwarts together, Griselda had said maybe three words to Lyric, and two of them were insults. Griselda was from a very wealthy wizard family. They were obsessed with all things wizard, and hated the Muggle-born with a passion. They had also been rumored to be involved with Voldemort, though charges were never brought. It was well-known that the Orland family always ended up in Slytherin, and Griselda was the first child that ended up a Gryffindor. Lyric remembered the Sorting ceremony that year. After her placement, Griselda through a gigantic fit, demanding that she be sorted again. The professors assured her that the hat was never wrong, and forced her to stay in Gryffindor. Griselda never accepted her placement. She cheered endlessly for the Slytherin team and often stayed the night with her Slytherin friends. She also had a nasty habit of losing points for the Gryffindor house, just to spite them. Now, she just sat glaring at Lyric.

Lyric shuddered to think she'd being sharing a room with this girl her last year. Lyric quickly got dressed and went to wake up Iona. Waking Iona is something that most people would do only if they had a death wish, but letting her sleep in was even worse. Lyric looked through her bags and found her stash of Bertie Bott's beans. She selected a grey one. Grey colored beans were almost never a good thing. She placed it in Iona's mouth and ran to the other side of the room. She didn't want to be within reaching distance. Iona sat up coughing and sputtering.

"Oh," she gagged, "pepper!" She glared at her best friend.

"Sorry mate, didn't want you to miss breakfast. Hurry up and get ready." Iona dragged herself out of bed and to the bathroom, when she was ready, her and Lyric went down to the dining hall together.

They sat down next to Tristan and began to fill their plates with food. Iona took eggs, bacon, sausage, a croissant with chocolate spread, a pancake, and a cup of coffee. Tristan was eating more or less the same thing. Lyric stuck was a piece of bran toast and jelly, and a cup of unsweetened tea. Lyric was jealous of how much Iona was able to eat and eat and never gain a pound, while Lyric knew that her toast would probably end up on her thighs by the end of the day.

"How can you just eat that?" Iona asked, glaring at the toast as though it were about to bite her.

"How can you eat all that?" Lyric pointed at Iona's over-flowing plate. "If I ate like that, you'd have to levitate me in and out of here, or use a forklift."

"What's a forklift?" asked Tristan. He knew very little about the Muggle world.

Dumbledore was handing out timetables. Lyric was eager to see which classes she got. Care of Magical Creatures. Of course. Magical Legends and Lore. Standard for all seventh years. Divination. Ugh. Lyric hated the class, but she needed another class on her schedule, and Iona was in it. Potions. What? Lyric knew she had not signed up to take Potions.

Tristan and Iona had the same look on their face. "Potions, with him?" cried Tristan.

Just then Dumbledore made an announcement, "For all the seven year, the ministry has required another level of potions for all students."

"Oh god! Why me?" Iona screamed melodramatically. "The man with the warm hands," she started giggling.

"Shut. Up," Lyric said quietly.

Meanwhile, Tristan kept watching for Peyton and Keith. No doubt they were posting last night's pictures all over the school. They walked in and gave Tristan the thumbs up.

"Well, ladies, I think it's time we take a stroll to class," Tristan got out of his seat.

"This, ought to be good," Lyric called to Iona.

The hallways were lined complete with posters of the first year Gryffindor boys. There were individual pictures of each boy in their hula skirts, there names flashed in red and gold. Students from all houses were crammed up against the wall to see the pictures.

Rita Skeeter flew past Lyric in the hall asking a first year, "How has this emotional trauma affected your life? Any suicidal thoughts?" She stopped chasing them when she caught sight of Lyric. Being the headmaster's niece made Lyric a constant target of Skeeter's so-called journalism. She smiled at Lyric and found a new page in her notebook. "Tell me, Lyric," she started, green pen poised above the paper, "how does the news of your uncle hiring a Death-Eater affect you? Are you angry at your uncle? Have you tried to persuade him to change his mind?"

"No comment," Iona butted in.

"_Lyric Dumbledore was so upset…_ no, that's not right. _Lyric Dumbledore was so overwhelmed by her emotions_, that's better, _that her friends had to speak for her_. Yes, that'll print quite nicely." She turned to Tristan, found a new page, "And you Tristan, do you think that this year, your prank has gone over the line? Do think you first years will suffer any emotional trauma?"

Lyric fielded that one, "Rita, you have about ten seconds to get out of our sight, or you're going to suffer some emotional trauma."

"_Tristan, unwilling to comment on his actions, has resorted to physical violence_-"

"That's it, come hear you little snake!" Iona took after Rita, who had begun running down the hall.

"I hate her," Lyric stated bluntly.

"But, you'll be reading the Wart Report tomorrow?" Tristan asked.

"Of course, I need to get my gossip, even if-" Lyric trailed off as she realized Snape walking towards her and Tristan. Off down the hall, they heard Rita scream.

"You!" Snape hissed pointing at Tristan. "Are you responsible for these pictures?" he yelled, grabbing onto Tristan's ear and pulling.

"Ow!" Tristan yelled in pain.

"Answer me!" Snape screamed and pulled harder

"Ow, yes sir!" Tristan cried.

It seemed the entire school had stopped to watch the action. Snape's eyes were wild with anger. "Do you find amusing to torture students?" he asked. He was pulling so hard on his ear, Tristan was nearly on the floor.

"No, but I can see you do," Tristan voiced was pained, but defiant.

Snape's eyes got very large and he let go of Tristan. As soon as Tristan stood up, he grabbed him by the back of the next and forced him down the hall. "Perhaps you'd like to discuss this in my office?"

"Stop it!" Lyric screamed at the greasy professor. It took Lyric a second to realize she had screamed out loud.

Snape looked surprised. "Do you have something to add?" he asked.

Lyric stalled. She rarely spoke out, especially to her professors. "It was just a prank. He's done it every year, and never been in trouble before."

"Do you really find that a sufficient reason that he shouldn't be punished now?" Lyric thought Snape seemed amused.

"Well," Lyric didn't really have an answer. "It's just a bit of fun."

"A bit of fun?" Snape repeated. "Since it was all in good fun, would you like us to plaster photographs of you in a coconut bra all over the school?" Cruelty lay behind his amusement, Lyric was sure of it.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind-" Tristan started. He never was good on timing.

"SHUT UP!" Snape screamed.

"Well, no sir, but-" Lyric was cut off.

"In that case, may I continue my private conversation with this boy in my office, please?" Snape's voice had returned to the eerie hissing.

"Yeah, sure." Lyric was sad to back have to back down, but she didn't want to stand up to Snape any further. Tristan winked at her, as if to say 'Thanks.'

"Thank you," Snape turned to the other students, "Shouldn't you all be getting to class?" he yelled. Students scrambled in all directions to get away, as Lyric watched Snape lead her friend down the hall.

Iona appeared at her side. "God, that was scary."

"You have no idea," Lyric looked at her friend who was carrying a clump of blonde hair.

"Courtesy of Rita Skeeter," she threw the hair on the ground. "Don't worry about Tristan, he can hold his own. C'mon love, we'll be late to Divination."


	6. Destiny

**Chpt. 6- Destiny**

Lyric hated Divination. She figured Trelawney was a complete hack. Iona agreed, but since she was studying astrology, she had to take the class. The only upside was that all you had to do was make up something that sounded profound, and you got yourself a passing grade.

"Sit down, please," Trelawney asked in a hushed voice that seemed all too dramatic. Lyric and Iona made themselves comfortable on two eggplant colored pillows in the back. "Today, I will do something special for all my students. I will foresee your destiny."

"Oh goody!" shouted Gretchen Hart, a Hufflepuff who adored Divination classes.

"Lyric Dumbledore," Trelawney looked at her, "you first. Come now, sit up by me." Lyric obeyed, though she kept rolling her eyes at her professor. "Now sit very still and you must stay absolutely quiet." Trelawney stuck the palm of her right hand to the forehead and her left hand in the middle of Lyric's back. She was very quiet for a minute, and then began talking in an eerie chant.

_Betrayal seems _

_To be foretold_

_For the girl_

_With a Heart of Gold_

_You'll love this man_

_Though it be too bold_

_His hands are warm_

_His heart is cold_

_Be careful_

_He'll take your soul._

The rest of the class clapped at Trelawney, but Lyric just sat there dumbfounded. _His hands are warm_. Could this destiny be her dreaded Potions professor? Lyric looked at Iona, who just shrugged it off.

"Are you alright?" asked Trelawney.

"No, I have to go," Lyric scrambled out of her seat and out of the tower. She couldn't help but start crying. She didn't want to believe Trelawney, but the warm hands things was starting to freak her out. She didn't normally notice people's hand, but she had with Snape, why? Plus, Amarantha had claimed the Lyric liked Snape, and that was in the prophecy, too. Wasn't it? Lyric ran back the Gryffindor common room. She sat there and cried until she had to go to her next class. The rest of the day was uneventful, Lyric basically tried to hide from everyone. She kept dreading her last class of the day: Potions.

When she got to Snape's classroom, she paused in the doorway. The pale man sat at his desk staring at her. Lyric tried to swallow away the lump in her throat, but it wouldn't go away. She saw Iona already sitting down, and ran to get the seat next to her.

"Where have you been all day?" Iona asked quietly.

"I've been in class," Lyric said.

"You're not upset about what Trelawney said, are you?" Iona was annoyed at her friend.

"Well, yes!" Lyric was on the brink of tears. "She was talking about the hands."

"So, Trelawney also told me that a fair-haired mother would soon reject me. My mother is anything but fair-haired."

"I know Trelawney is full of it and has been for years, but it's just a little creepy that she mentions something that we were just talking about last night." Tears had begun to stream down her face.

"Okay, I admit that was strange, but it may just be coincidence," Iona was trying to comfort her friend. "Remember two years ago when Trelawney told me I wouldn't live another year? She was wrong about that, eh? Plus, I guarantee there are thousands of men in this world with warm hands, not just that one. So, cheer up. He's not going to be the one to take our soul."

"Oh, that's comforting," Lyric laughed. "Have you seen Tristan since this morning?" she asked her friend.

"No, not since Snape dragged him off to the dungeon," Iona began. "Probably is shackled up right now, and there are jumper cable attached to his nipples. Every time Snape presses a button, Tristan'll get 20,000 volts."

"You thought of that all by yourself?" Lyric asked laughing.

"No, saw it in a movie-" Iona was interrupted by a loud cough.

"Ladies, class has begun, can we finish the conversation about Tristan's nipples later?" Snape growled at the two of them.

Lyric turned back to the unflattering red shade as the class laughed at her and Iona. "Sure," Iona said, biting back her own embarrassment. The girls didn't dare look at each other for the rest of class.

The class was boring, as Snape felt the need to explain to the seventh years about caring for your cauldron and supplies. When it was over, Lyric and Iona headed back to the Gryffindor dorm to find Tristan. When they entered, they found him sit on the couch staring at the fireplace.

"Tristan?" Iona asked, "Are you okay?" Tristan was silent. "Tristan, what happened with Snape this morning?" Iona sounded upset. Again Tristan said nothing.

Lyric sat down next to him on the couch, "What happened?" she was beginning to worry.

Tristan closed his eyes and began to whisper, "Kubla geela varca." Iona and Lyric just stared at him. He continued a hushed chant, "Regela borteca sumari, Morta eska neeha." Then he again fell silent.

"Iona, what the hell was that?" Lyric asked trembling.

"I don't know!" Iona screamed, "Tristan, talk to me. Tell me what happened?"

"I can't," Tristan began to cry, "I can't."

"Somebody, help!" Lyric called to the other students. They just stared at her.

"I can't," Tristan said very loudly, "believe you fell for that!" His voice had returned to normal and he start to laugh hysterically.

"You bastard!" Iona punched him in the arm, "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Uh oh!" Tristan took off running with Iona right behind him.

"You're such an asshole," Lyric called after him.

After Iona finally caught him and tortured him by pulling his leg hairs, he apologized.

"Should've seen the look on your faces. It was priceless," he laughed.

"Ha, ha. What really happened?" Iona asked.

"Nothing much, Snape yelled at me for an hour, but then had a class to teach, so he stuck me with Filch the rest of the day. I was forced to scrub toilets for about five hours, but nothing I can't handle. So you ladies, wanna get some dinner?"

"Yeah, let's go," said Iona leading the way.

"By the way, Lyric," Tristan said as they entered the dining hall, "Snape kept asking me about you. He either is in love with you, or is trying to get you in trouble as well. Maybe both. I think he's the type that punishment gets him all hot-"

"Finish that sentence, and you're a dead man," Lyric warned. "We must stop talking about Snape from now on, got it?"

"Whatever you say."


	7. What You Wanted

**Chpt. 7- What you wanted**

Lyric sat in the potions class trying to remember the proper ingredients.

"Hair of chichevache, a dash of ground kelpie hoof, and what was the last thing?" she asked herself, she looked in her book, but Snape snatched it out of hand.

"This is not open-book Miss Dumbledore. For that, you fail. Stay after class to discuss it with me," he hissed quietly so as not to disturb the other students.

"Had he mentioned it wasn't open book?" Lyric thought to herself.

Iona shot Snape a disgusting look, then Lyric a look of sympathy. When class was over, Lyric remained behind while the other students filtered out. She approached his desk, her feet growing heavier with every step. "You wanted to see me?" she asked.

"Yes," Snape said getting out from behind his desk. He quickly closed the gap between them and grabbed Lyric by the shoulders. He then forced his mouth on hers. Lyric, completely shocked, had no reaction at first, but soon found herself enjoy his taste, his touch. She opened her mouth to let him in. His tongue moved quickly, but gently. After what seemed like an eternity of kissing, Snape broke away and began to undress Lyric. She wasn't quite she sure that she wanted this to happen, but she felt that she didn't want it to stop.

"Wait," she cried, "this is too fast."

"No, it isn't," he commanded as he tore off her robes. He planted to lips to hers again, and continued to undress the girl.

Lyric's body shuddered at his every touch, and a hunger deep in her loins pulled at her. She wanted more, but she knew it couldn't happen. "Wait, stop, I can't do this," she screamed at him.

"Yes, you can," he demanded. "Isn't it what you wanted?" he asked.

"No, stop it," she was nearly in tears

"But, dear girl, it is your destiny," he whispered in her ear.

"NO!" Lyric woke up screaming. Lights all around her went on. Iona appeared by her bedside.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned for her friend.

Lyric sat puzzled until she realized the encounter with Snape had been a dream. "Nothing," she said, out of breath. "Just a bad dream is all."

"Goddammit," screamed Griselda from across the room, "some of us are trying to sleep."

"Cram it, Griselda," Iona glared at her.

"Wanna say that a little closer?" Griselda jumped out of her bed.

"Stop it," Lyric cried, "sorry to wake you Griselda, I'm going to back to sleep."

"I knew I should've stayed in Slytherin tonight," Griselda mumbled to herself as she crawled back into bed.

Iona looked at Lyric with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, please go back to sleep." Iona crawled back into bed and the lights went out.

Lyric lay back down, but didn't dare close her eyes for the rest of the night.

_Okay needed to write a real quick chapter. I know my story is coming along quick now, but finals start next week, so I'll be out for a while. Don't worry (my two readers) but I'll be back after I fail all my finals. Happy reading!_


	8. Impending Revenge

_Well, so much for studying for finals! I ended up writing the end of the story, which was stupid, because I really want to post it. But first, I have to continue with the middle of the story. So here is chapter 8. Enjoy, because this really will be my last post for a while._

_On another note, Risi's comment got me to thinking, and she was right. I think a little more ambiguity with Snape's past makes for a better and more accurate story, so I've changed some previous chapters. Subtle changes, the basic story is still the same._

**Chpt. 8- Impending Revenge**

Lyric sat silent at breakfast the next morning. She was thinking about last night's dream. The idea of being pinned underneath a very persistent and excited Snape was not as repulsive as Lyric wished it to be.

"So, I was thinking about a prank," said Tristan animatedly, "how about letting loose three pixies in the school, and labeling them 1, 3, and 4. They quickly get the three we let loose, but Filch'll spend the rest of the day looking for number 2."

"Tristan, you're already on Snape's _Hit List_. You think it wise to push it with another prank so soon? It's only the second day of classes," Iona pleaded.

"Well, I can't go the rest of the year behaving, now can I?" Tristan argued. "I've got a reputation to uphold. Right Lyric?" he asked her, but she remained silent staring at her toast. "Yoo-hoo! Lyric?" Tristan tried to get her attention.

"Sorry, what?" she asked looking up from her plate.

"You falling in love with the toast or what?" he asked.

"No, sorry," she explained, "I'm just a bit distracted. Didn't sleep much last night."

"Was that because of your dream?" Iona asked.

"Oh, dream," Tristan squealed. "Was it a sex dream? Was it about me? Was I a fantastic shag, be honest?" he asked excitedly.

"No! It was definitely not a dream about you," Lyric defended.

"So, it was a sex dream?" he asked.

"NO!" she screamed, "Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore, can we move on to something else?"

Iona and Tristan were shocked that Lyric had snapped at them, so they quickly let the topic go. Luckily, the post had just come through. As the owls flew through the dining hall delivering the morning mail, bright green pieces of paper had started to fall from the ceiling. Lyric reached out to grab one of the pieces of paper. "Oh good, the Wart Report's here," she said.

Iona also reached out to grab a piece of paper while Tristan just rolled his eyes at the girls. "I can't believe you girls read that rubbish. Skeeter is an absolute bitch and a liar. She just goes around printing rumors about everyone in school, no wonder she hasn't got any friends."

"Tristan, it's a well-known fact that in any rumor lies some truth," Iona said matter-of-factly. "Rita always picks up on something that's true."

Again Tristan rolled his eyes. "Anything good?" he asked a few seconds later.

"Well, well, well," started Iona, "apparently your antics are about to start a full on coup by the underclassmen. They feel as though your 'Rein of Terror' needs to end."

"She's printed that same story for three years. Move off it, Rita!" he shouted towards the Ravenclaw table, knowing that she was listening.

"Look here," said Iona, "it seems that our dear headmaster and his favorite niece have had a falling out. Apparently, Lyric is so upset by her uncle's recent hiring that she refuses to talk to him."

"What were you saying about some truth in everything?" Tristan asked sarcastically. "Obviously Rita made this one up, Lyric would never stop talking to Dumbledore, would you?" he asked Lyric who had quietly been reading the paper for any mention of Snape.

"No, of course not," she said without looking up from the paper.

"Losing your edge, Skeeter!" Tristan yelled again at the Ravenclaws. Rita popped her head out of the crowd and gave Tristan a lewd hand gesture.

"That was rude," Tristan laughed.

Lyric was still reading the paper, she paused before moving on to the last section of the paper: the Love Watch. This was the one part of the paper most dreaded. It was dreaded by all, because it was notoriously accurate. There was a section for love sightings, official relationships, lovers' quarrels, and breakups. Lyric was relieved to not see her name among the listings. She didn't know why she felt so paranoid about her dream, but Lyric felt that somehow, Rita would exploit it if she ever heard about it.

Classes went on as normal, but Lyric began to draw nervous as Potions drew near. When she walked into Snape's classroom, she avoided him like the plague. She sat down next to Iona, and buried her nose in a book.

"Okay, what's the deal Lyric?" Iona finally asked, "You've been acting strange all day, and you even snapped at me and Tristan this morning, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, okay, I'm just tired," Lyric said glumly. She knew she couldn't hide it from her best friend forever; Iona would soon beat it out of her. Tristan entered the classroom and gave Snape the biggest smile he could muster.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape. I hope you're well," Tristan said in a rather sincere voice.

"Just dandy, Mr. Merton. I trust you served your detention well yesterday?" Snape asked.

"Of course, sir," Tristan had cooked up a brown-noser voice that was relatively annoying.

"Good, now take your seat. I suggest that you inform your two friends that there was no damage done to your nipples, they seemed quite concerned about the issue in class, yesterday," Snape said without any humor in his voice. The class laughed at the mention of nipples until Snape glared at them all.

A look of confusion spread across Tristan's face, but he then turned to face the class and lifted up his shirt. "They appear to be doing okay this morning," he said as he touched a finger to his left nipple. The students were unsure whether or not they could laugh.

"Take your seat, Mr. Merton," Snape commanded, upset that he had not managed to embarrass Tristan. "I would like to begin class by asking if anyone knows the magical properties of molë?" Snape looked around the room at blank faces. Lyric knew the answer, but she didn't dare raise her hand. Snape paced in front of the classroom, before calling out "Ms. Dumbledore, would you enlighten us?"

Lyric felt her face grow flame-red, she slowly looked up from her book at her Potions master. "The magical properties of the molë root is still unknown to man, as it is impossible for the root to be pulled out of the ground by humans," she said quietly.

"Go on," Snape stared at her.

"The only creature that can pull the root from the earth is the catoblepas, but the creature will consume the root immediately, and no wizard has ever succeeded trying to wrestle the root from the catoblepas," Lyric was dying to shut up and bury her face back in her book.

"Anything else," he asked with amusement. Lyric glared at her professor as he continued to smile like a young boy pulling the wings off of a fly.

"The ancient Greeks believe the root was only available to the Gods, which gave us the phrase 'holy moly.' Currently, the belief is that the molë root would be the key ingredient in an immortality potion, though there is no evidence to support that theory."

"Good, it would seem as though you took that description straight from a textbook, though. Ten points from Gryffindor for plagiarism," he smiled briefly before continuing on with his lecture. "Immortality potions are nothing more that mere legend. There is currently no potion that offers such protection. However, there are several potions that can temporarily sustain life. The first of which is the Atheneen Potion."

As Snape continued with his lecture, Lyric felt anger swelling up inside of her. He had egged her on when she didn't want to talk to him, then punished her for obeying. Twice more he asked Lyric questions. She refused to answer both times and Snape took points away for that as well.

Iona exploded the minute they left class. "That greasy old git takes points away for knowing the answer, and then he takes them away if you didn't know it. Why does he act like such a rat bastard all the time?" Iona raved on loudly.

"He did it to humiliate me," Lyric raved much quieter than Iona, "that bastard does it all to upset me."

"Why would he want to upset you?" Tristan asked.

"Hell if I know," Lyric said raising her voice. "Probably just likes to see students squirm. He picks on me because I'm the headmaster's niece," Lyric felt her eyes welling up with tears, though she tried to stop them.

"Hon, what's wrong?" Iona asked gently. "Please don't tell me you're crying because of that asshole."

"No, it's just," sadness subsided as full fledged rage filled Lyric was a new-found hatred for the professor. "Tristan, I need you're help."

"What is it love?" he asked.

"I want, no, _need_ to get back at that disgusting man. You need to help me pull off a prank. Something that'll but that bat in his place," Lyric was defiant now.

For a minute, Tristan looked like he was going to cry. "I," he began tearfully, "am so proud of you. Come on, well start planning tonight."


	9. Plans and Preparations

_Oh goodness, finals sure did suck. But I'm done, and I now have time to write my story. Hurrah! But then of course, I get writers' block. Boo! So this is a short chapter, as I'm not entirely sure what the prank will be, but I have a few good ideas. I hope to have chapter ten up after Christmas, if not before. Have fun reading, and happy holidays everyone!_

**Chpt. 9- Plans and Preparation **

"You're mad," Iona pleaded, as her two best friends went through their prank checklist.

It had taken almost a month to plan their prank and get all of the supplies, and Iona had given them the same speech everyday since she heard the plan. Meanwhile, Snape had continued to humiliate Lyric at least twice a week, and Trelawney had again foretold Lyric of her future treacherous lover. Lyric had tried to ignore the destiny, but felt like it was imminent that she must fall for her cruel professor.

"No, we're not." Lyric defended.

"Well, I am a little mad, I'll admit," Tristan said, grinning his boyish grin.

"You're about to pull an incredibly cruel prank on one of your professors. You will be caught. You will be expelled," Iona was frustrated with her two best friends. "I'm going to be royally pissed if I lose both of my best friends in my last year at school. If I have to spend the rest of the year with only Amarantha and Amaryllis to talk to, I'll likely go mad myself."

"We aren't going anywhere, because we're not going to get caught," Lyric said. "I don't want to get kicked out of school anymore than you do. This is full-proof."

"I'm sorry," cried Iona, "I missed the part where your plan is full-proof. There is a ton of evidence in Tristan's room, not to mention he's the only student in this school with access to the potions you're using. And of course, you stole the Invisibility Cloak out of your uncle's office, it's not like many students around here are running around with a cloak like that in their possession. Lyric, you're supposed to be the level-headed, reasonable one. Why are you doing this?"

Lyric was ready to defend her actions, but Tristan jumped in.

"Iona," Tristan began, "there is nothing to worry about. These potions were extras in my father's Apothecary shop, but no one knows about them, because my father thought they had all been spilled last year, after Tallula began practicing ballet in his storeroom. And we'll return the Invisibility Cloak the second we're done with it. It's not like Dumbledore will miss it, he had is all locked up and label J.P. It's not even his cloak. So stop worrying."

"And what about you're camera," Iona asked, "a simple spell, and it'll show the headmaster exactly what pictures you took."

"Ah, well, that's where the sacrifice comes in," Tristan said glumly, "I will be sacrificing my camera to the God of Practical Jokes. After we take the pictures, we'll develop them, stomp on the camera, burn the pieces, and spread the ashes out in the lake. We thought of everything Iona, we cannot get caught for this."

"Famous last words," Iona said bitterly, but she soon gave up trying to reason with her friends. She knew she'd never talk them out of it.


	10. Change of Plans

**Chpt. 10- Changes of Plans**

"Lucenty Potion?"

"Check."

"Invisibility Cloak?"

"Check."

"Filibuster Fireworks?"

"Check."

"Sleeping Powder?"

"Check."

"Camera?"

"Check."

"Black tutu?"

"Check, well it's still pink. Were we gonna dye it?"

"I thought that was the plan," Lyric said. She and Tristan were going over the final checklist for their plan. Their only debate was whether the ballet outfit was funnier in pink or in black. "I still think black is funnier, because that's all he ever wears," Lyric argued

"Yes, but pink is just classically funny if worn by a man," Tristan shot back.

"This is my revenge, and I say black," Lyric was defiant.

"Fine," Tristan sighed, taking out his wand. "Tallula's gonna be mad at me for this. _Vestitus infusco_" he waved his wand at the garment. The pink costume slowly turned to black.

"Much better," Lyric said smiling. Then she got serious. "Tristan, are you really okay with this?"

"Well, I liked the pink tutu better, but this still ought to be funny as hell."

"No, not the tutu. I mean, you know we could get in trouble for this?"

"That's half the fun Lyric, tempting fate," Tristan said without any worry in his voice.

"What if we're expelled for this?" Lyric could feel herself becoming more and more nervous.

"Lyric, you can't be getting cold feet at the eleventh hour. We planned this for a month. It will happen tonight. We won't get caught." He seemed so sure.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do, now c'mon, we're gonna be late for class. I'll see you in Potions, and remember, tonight at midnight."

The rest of the day was uneventful, but Lyric was becoming paranoid that Rita Skeeter knew what was going on. In Magical Legends and Lore, Rita kept asking Lyric questions. She may have just been fishing, but Lyric couldn't be sure.

"Lyric, do you ever feel invincible in this school? I mean, you've never been in trouble, you always get some of the top grades. Is it merely a coincidence that your uncle is the headmaster? Perhaps he has made it his duty to protect the family name from being sullied." Rita wasn't exactly asking a question, as she was writing down her own conclusions as Lyric remained silent.

It wasn't the first time the topic of her schooling had come up. When she was first admitted to Hogwarts, there was some concern among the school board that Dumbledore would let Lyric slide through without having to work, also some worried that she wouldn't be punished for any disobediences. Lyric didn't know how her uncle eased the concerns, but she knew that the school board hadn't made any fuss since.

When Potions came around, Lyric once again found herself unable to look at her professor. Tristan walked into the class and took a seat directly behind her.

"Bad news," he whispered in her ear, "I spilled some water just outside the dining hall and Filch gave me detention tonight."

"What!" Lyric screamed out loud. The entire class turned to stare at her, including Snape. "Sorry," she squeaked, then gave Tristan a look of desperation.

"We'll talk after class," he said as Snape was beginning his lecture.

Later, Tristan and Lyric sat on Tristan's bed. "It'll have to be you," Tristan said.

"What? No, no, I can't… I mean, I just can't!" Lyric could feel a panic attack coming on.

"Why not?" Tristan was annoyed.

"Because I cannot break into Snape's quarters. I wouldn't know how to use the Sleeping Powder properly, I'm terrified of those fireworks, and the last thing I want to do is undress Snape."

"It's impossible for the fireworks to hurt you, you know that. As for the Sleeping Powder, he must inhale it or ingest it. Either blow some in his face or slip some in his tea. And it's not like I was thrilled to get the man naked, but it was a sacrifice for the cause," Tristan explained. "Besides, this may actually work to our advantage. People were most likely to suspect me for this, but if I'm with Filch all night, I have an air-tight alibi. Lyric, this is up to you now. Are you gonna make me proud?"

Lyric was torn. On one hand, she really wanted to limit her contact with Snape. But on the other hand, she really wanted to put the greasy old git in his place. "Okay," she said sadly, "I'll do it."

"Alright," Tristan was excited. "Showtime."

_Another shorter chapter, sorry to drag the story out. Chapter 11 will be up shortly. Probably before most of you read this. _


	11. Pictures and Regrets

**Chpt. 11- Pictures and Regrets**

Lyric carefully walked through the hallway to the west end of the school. Even under the Invisibility Cloak, she felt exposed. She took her time slowly crawling along the walls to Snape's quarters. When she arrived at his door, she took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing," she muttered quietly. Lyric took the top of the Lucency Potion.

"How will you get into his room," Iona had asked them when she heard their plan. "The teachers' quarters all have individual passwords."

"Lucency," Tristan replied, "you can walk through up to five of solid brick with just a small bottle."

Now, Lyric stood with the small blue bottle in her hands, uncorking the bottle.

"Only take half," Tristan had warned earlier. "Too much and you'll fall straight through the floor."

'That's comforting,' Lyric thought to herself. She moved the bottle to her lips and let the potion flow down the back of her throat. It tasted revolting, but Lyric did as she was instructed and swallowed approximately half of the liquid. Just a few moments later, a quick wave of nausea swept over Lyric and left quickly as it had come. She took another deep breath, closed her eyes, and stepped forward. As she hit the door, she felt a tug but was still able to walk straight through the thick wooden door. When finally inside, Lyric opened her eyes.

Snape's quarters were an eclectic mess of books, unmatched furniture, scary-looking things in jars, and darkness. The walls were lined with cheap looking cedar bookshelves. Hundreds of books were randomly stacked all over the room. Lyric tried to read some of the titles, but the room was too dark.

The only light in the room came from a large green candle on the large pine desk, where Snape was currently grading assignments. Snape briefly looked up from his papers and glanced in Lyric's direction. She immediately froze. She stopped breathing for what seemed like an hour, until Snape went back to his grading. Lyric, as quietly as possible, drew another breath.

Lyric crept over to the desk, and had a silent congratulatory scream. Snape was having a cup of tea. This would make the Sleeping Powder much easier. But of course, there was now the challenge of getting it into his cup without exposing her hand from underneath the cloak. Luck was on her side tonight, because just as Lyric stood wondering how to do it, Snape got up from the desk, grabbed the candle and went to the bookshelf on the opposite end of the room. No doubt looking for a reference. Lyric wasted no time in dumping a capful of the powder into his cup. She then ran for cover near the door, and waited for Snape to sample his tea.

Lyric sat near the door for nearly ten minutes. Snape was not at all interesting in the cup on his desk, and Lyric was getting impatient. While she waited, Lyric began to look at the collection of books on the walls. There were a number what looked like old school textbooks. Potions books for years and years of school. Lyric swallowed hard when she read the title _Pollard's Paperback of Perilously Poisonous Potions._ Then Lyric found something that surprised her: a few shelves near the bottom that was entirely devoted to Muggle books. A seemingly committed collection of classics: _Beowulf, Paradise Lost, The Odyssey, A Tale of Two Cities, Frankenstein, The Republic, Antigone, War of the Worlds, Candide, The Canterbury Tales, Don Quixote, East of Eden, War and Peace, Anna Karenina, The Prince,_ Dante's _Inferno,_ and dozens of battered and dog-eared books littered this shelf in the most unorganized fashion.

Lyric was in awe. Most wizards found it unnecessary to keep up with Muggle literature. It was often hard to get a hold of a book if you were a wizard withdrawn from the Muggle world. The summer before her first at Hogwarts, while on location with her mother in Florida, Lyric had occupied the summer in the public library. There, she had found thousands of novels and stories that she had never heard of before. Lyric's first book was Of Mice and Men. Lyric was completely entranced by the story of George and Lenny, and soon found herself reading the rest of Steinbeck's novels. She quickly moved on to other authors and other books. She couldn't get enough. When at school, she only had the few novels she had brought with her, but here was a small library of books she loved. She looked a Snape with a new sense of respect, before remembering what an ass he was to her and that godforsaken destiny.

Just as Lyric turned to look at the well-read professor, Snape had taken a sip of his tea. Soon after putting the cup back down, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he slouched backwards to the floor. Even though Lyric was expecting him to pass out, she hadn't counted on him going out so quick. Lyric threw off the Invisibility Cloak and quickly ran to her professor. She sat for a minute, making sure that he was alright. After watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, Lyric pulled out the tutu, ready to dress Snape in it.

Problem: how the hell was she going to lift him up and be able to dress him? She and Tristan clearly hadn't thought the logistics of their plan through entirely. Thinking for a minute, Lyric then withdrew her wand and said "_Mobilicorpus_." Snape's limp form slowly rose to standing position.

Lyric stood in front of the floating Snape for a minute, trying to force herself to reach out and touch him. This was the part she dreaded. In order to get the photo op Tristan and she planned on, it would require Lyric to first undress the greasy bat. She finally went for it and quickly unbuttoned his robes and the rest of clothes. He now stood, or floated, in front of Lyric wearing nothing but a pair of dingy gray knickers. To Lyric's absolute horror, she was not disgusted at the sight. She put her hand to the professors pale chest. Like his hands, he was warm to the touch, almost comforting. His skin was soft, but tight across small, but defined muscles. Lyric suddenly found the tremendous urge to feel the rest of he professor, but slapped her own hand away from Snape's body.

Pushing certain thought out of head, Lyric quickly dressed Snape into Tallula's now-black tutu. Seeing as how the tutu was made to fit a pudgy, short girl, it hardly fit this tall, skinny man. Stretched tight over his shoulders, but hanging loosely in the stomach. Lyric stifled a giggle, and got out the camera. She tilted Snape's head back so that people were sure to see his face in the photo, and took the picture. She redressed him, and moved him over to his bed. She lifted the spell and watched him fall onto the burgundy duvet in his oak four-poster bed.

Lyric watched him sleep for a minute. Suddenly, he wasn't so scary, he wasn't so mean, and he definitely wasn't so revolting. In sleep, he looked vulnerable and human. Lyric sat down next to him on the bed, and put her hand on top of his hand. It was warm, just a Lyric had expected. She sat and stroked his hand for then next few minutes, wanting to do more, but terrified that she would wake him. The powder would soon wear off.

Sadly, she got off the bed and put the Invisibility Cloak back on. She looked at the room, for anything she may have left behind. Finding nothing, she drank the other half of the Lucency potion and walked though the door. She immediately walked to her uncle's office, as he was away from the school until this weekend. She whispered the password, ran into his office, and put the Invisibility Cloak back in the trunk labeled J.P. He hadn't mentioned it missing to anyone, so Lyric just assumed he knew nothing of its disappearance. She ran out of his office and back to the Gryffindor common room. Tristan was waiting for her, no one else was around.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Just finished up with Filch. How'd it go," he asked excitedly.

"Um, good, I guess," she answered with far less enthusiasm.

"Well, did you get the picture? Did anyone see you? Did you need the fireworks as a distraction?"

"Yeah, I got the picture, and no one saw me, but…" she trailed off.

"But what?" Tristan was worried, "What happened?"

"Nothing happened, I just…" Lyric struggled with her words, "we can't do this, Tristan."

"We already did it, Lyric," he was annoyed with her.

"No, I mean, we can't develop these pictures, and we can't show them to anybody. It's too much, Snape doesn't deserve this."

"What? He's been on your case since school started, and mine, and about three-quarters of all the students in this school. He hates everyone that isn't in Slytherin. He's a complete, elitist bastard, not to mention ugly as sin."

"He's not ugly," Lyric defend before realizing what she had said. "I mean, that's no reason to do this to him."

Tristan was angry, Lyric had never seen him like this before. "Is this because of Trelawney's prediction?"

Lyric was dumbfounded, "How did you know about that?" she yelled at him.

"Iona told me. Lyric, you can't believe some cryptic bullshit description from that hack. You don't even know what it means. Even if it was accurate, which I highly doubt, it most likely has nothing to do with Snape. C'mon, we've worked for a month to get back as the greasy git, but now you're too scared? This is stupid Lyric. That man has this coming. If not from us, think of all the students he tortures now. And think of all the students he'll torture in the future." Tristan was almost pleading with her. "We have to do this, after all that work."

Lyric thought for a minute. "Why are you pushing this so hard, Tristan? You would never ask me to do something I didn't want to do. What's in it for you?"

Tristan's anger immediately dissipated. "I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. I can't ask you to do this. We won't do it. I'll get rid of the film and we'll just forget the whole thing," Tristan walked over to Lyric and threw his arms around her. "We okay?" he asked concerned.

"Yeah, we're okay," Lyric said smiling up at him. "Can I just go to bed now?" she asked, "I really need some sleep."

"Of course," he said smiling. "I'll see you in the morning."


	12. Deception and Confessions

**Chpt. 12- Deception and Confessions**

Lyric was sleeping very happily when she felt someone shake her violently.

"Lyric," the voice called, "Lyric!"

"What?" Lyric replied sleepily, rolling over to find Iona standing above her.

"Breakfast is in five minutes, you overslept," Iona said.

Lyric jumped out of bed and dressed very quickly, foregoing the shower this morning. As she and Iona made their way to the dining hall, Iona quietly asked if the mission was accomplished.

"Not exactly," Lyric responded quietly, "I got a picture, but we decided it was too cruel to show it around." Lyric chose to leave out the fight her and Tristan had had last night.

"Thank God!" Iona said a little too loudly, then she added in a whisper, "I really hoped you wouldn't go through with it."

As Iona and Lyric entered the dining hall, they looked for Tristan, but couldn't find him anywhere. She saw her uncle sitting at the teacher's table talking to Professor McGonagall. He must have gotten back this morning. Lyric looked to find Snape looking rather well rested, but somewhat confused. The image she had of him last night caught up with her, putting a large smile on her face. Iona and Lyric sat down and tucked into the food. As they ate, the post came. Once again, green pieces of paper began to fall from the ceiling.

"The Wart Report?" Iona asked confusedly. They had gotten a copy yesterday, happily free of stories on Lyric, but it was rare to have two editions back-to-back. Rita usually needed two or three days to gather enough good dirt. "Oh," Iona's voice fell about an octave as she looked at the paper. All around, students had begun to stir.

"What?" Lyric asked, worried Rita had printed something horrible about her. Iona continued to stare at the paper. Lyric grabbed her own copy from the air and was horrified to find Professor Snape dressed in an ill-fitting black tutu, eerily swaying back and forth, just as he had last night. This was the picture. The picture she had taken. All around, students had begun laughing, as the teachers looked confusedly from the students to the other teachers. Finally, McGonagall reached out and grabbed one of the green papers.

The room fell silent upon seeing McGonagall's face. "Skeeter!" she screamed, "Come with me right now!" She then showed the paper to Snape, whose face turned even whiter before pink began to creep into his cheeks. Next, she showed Dumbledore, whose kind smile had turned cold upon seeing the image. Across the dining hall, Rita had slowly gotten out of her chair. She looked as confused as the other teachers. But she followed McGonagall out of the dining hall with Dumbledore and Snape in tow. As soon as Snape's robes had disappeared out the door, the entire dining hall burst out into laughter and conversation.

Iona glared at Lyric, "I thought you weren't gonna show this around?" she was upset with her friend. "You went too far with this and now Rita's in trouble for it. Granted, I hate the bitch, but she doesn't deserve to get expelled for your mess," she said with disgust in her voice.

Lyric struggled to know what to say, "I, we, Tristan said he wasn't going to develop the picture at all."

As if on cue, Tristan sat down next to Iona grinning wildly. "So ladies," he asked amused, "did I miss anything?"

"Tristan, you asshole!" Lyric yelled, the entire hall hushed at her exclamation. Immediately, Lyric lowered her voice, and laid into her friend, "You told me you wouldn't do it. You lied to me. And what's more, Rita's now in trouble for what I did."

"I did you a favor," he defended in a whisper, "I got back at the prat arse professor and that cow Rita that prints lies about everyone in this school."

"Tristan," Lyric pleaded, "it is not your job to protect me. I have to go fix this," Lyric ran off in the direction Skeeter had headed with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. She ran to her uncle's office, slipped the statue the password and ran full on up the stairs.

She stopped at the top, and quietly poked her head into the office. McGonagall with shaking her head, Snape was staring daggers, and Skeeter sat crying "It wasn't me. I don't even have a camera. I wouldn't print that. I didn't even make an issue for today, I swear."

Lyric was about to enter the office, when she heard something she had never heard before. Her dear uncle Albus began yelling. "We have tolerated your rumors, your lies, and your snooping," Lyric's heart stopped beating, hearing him yell seemed unnatural, "but we will not tolerate your cruelty. A blatant disregard for your professor, and for what? A good story. Miss Skeeter, this is entirely unacceptable. You're facing expulsion for this. How did you do it then?" Rita just sat crying.

Lyric couldn't take it anymore. She stepped in the doorway and opened her mouth to tell her uncle to stop, but she had no words. Luckily, McGonagall looked up at that moment. "Miss Dumbledore, this doesn't concern you. Please leave." Everyone in the room had turned to stare at her. Lyric could feel Snape's eyes boring into her, the kind vulnerable face was now hidden by hatred and embarrassment. She was mad at herself for finding humanity in the man last night. She looked away from his glare, and back at her uncle.

Lyric stood fast to her spot in the doorway. "Miss Dumbledore, you must leave immediately, or I will be forced to take points from Gryffindor." Lyric didn't move, but instead looked at her uncle. The anger in his face almost killed her.

"It was me," she said barely above a whisper.

"Pardon," said Snape, "what did you say?"

"I said," Lyric started, still unable to look at the pale man, "it was me. I took the picture. I put it in the Wart Report. It was me. All me." Though she was mad at Tristan, she had never intended for him to take the blame. He would surely be expelled, while Lyric doubted her uncle would do that to her.

The anger in Dumbledore's face had left, but was replaced by something that made Lyric feel even worse: sadness. McGonagall stared in disbelief, while Snape had simply turned his evil glare from Rita to Lyric.

"Rita," Dumbledore said calmly, "do you swear you had nothing to do with this?"

"Yes, sir," her voice was overcome with relief.

"Then you are free to leave. Minerva, please escort Miss Skeeter to her first class. Severus, I must ask you stay here."

Rita bolted out of her chair and automatically reached for the pen in her book bag. "Not now," warned McGonagall as she led Rita out of the room.

Dread filled Lyric's stomach. She silently cursed that her uncle had not asked Snape to leave the room as well. Facing her uncle was one thing, but facing Snape was something entirely different. Lyric prepared herself for the same verbal lashing that Rita had gotten, but instead she was faced with silence. Lyric wasn't sure which was worse.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Dumbledore finally spoke, "I'm not going to ask why you did what you did, Lyric. Frankly, I have a hard time believing it. But if you admit to it, you must be the culprit." He voice was calm, but sad. "Do you remember when the school board tried to keep you from coming to school, Lyric?"

Lyric just nodded, she knew if she opened her mouth, tears would start in her eyes.

"I convinced the school board that they would be allowed to review your grades to ensure that I was fair. And I also told them that any sort of disobedience would not be handled by me. I told them that the other teachers at Hogwarts would be allowed to procure an appropriate punishment for you."

Lyric nodded slowly, not quite understanding where this was going.

"If it were up to me, expulsion would be the most appropriate punishment-" he was interrupted by Lyric.

"No! I have to finish school. I-" Lyric was in turn interrupted by her uncle.

"As I just said, that is not up to me. In this case, it seems most appropriate that I would allow Professor Snape to decide on an appropriate punishment."

Lyric turned cold. Snape would inevitably find something worse that expulsion. Lyric guessed the death by spell squad would be his choice punishment. Snape, who up until this point, had been making a face as though he had just eaten a lemon, smiled. Not a warm smile though, the smile of a small child pulling the wings off of a fly.

"Well," he began coldly, "expulsion seems the most obvious punishment." Lyric hung her head defeated. "But," he started, "after six years of excellent grades and no prior incidents, other than hanging out with the Merton boy, that would be far too harsh."

Lyric perked up, she was going to stay in school after all.

"Detention," Snape hissed.

Lyric fought back a smile she was getting off easy.

"Three nights a week," he continued.

A little worse, but Lyric was still happy to avoid getting kicked out.

"Until the Easter holiday," Snape went on.

Lyric was getting a little upset, that was an awful lot of detention.

"With me," he finished with a smirk.

Lyric's heart sank. She wondered if it was too late to take the expulsion.


	13. Late

_This chapter really would have been up sooner, but my son got the flu. Needless to say, I had a horrible weekend, (of course, so did he). Thank you for all the reviews. I'm happy to see some new fans. This chapter isn't all that interesting, but I had to include it. I promise chapter 14 will feature the first detention. Happy readings!_

**Chpt. 13- Late**

"That's settled then," Albus Dumbledore said without emotion. "Lyric, you better be off to class. Severus, I plan to have a talk with the students at dinner this evening."

"Don't bother," Snape frowned, "the damage is done. I plan to have a discussion with my students; I doubt an incident like this will ever be repeated." Lyric thought that sounded a bit like a threat, but she just gathered her book bag and headed out the door.

Lyric started down the staircase and into the hallway. She stopped wanting to go back and explain herself to her uncle, but when she turned, she saw Snape staring at her in the hallway. She wanted to apologize, but she couldn't make herself do it.

"Miss Dumbledore, I think we shall start this evening. Meet me in my office. You can help me test the potions my first years made yesterday. Eight o'clock sharp," and with that, Snape turned and walked down the hall the other direction.

Lyric watched him until he disappeared behind the corner. She thought again about going to talk to her uncle, but she just couldn't face him. She knew she had let him down. Lyric was angry. Angry with Tristan for publishing that photo. Angry with herself for taking the picture. And most of all, she was angry with Snape for forcing her to spend even more time with the man she dreaded. At this point, Lyric thought that she would rather leave the school. There was no point in staying, as she was sure her uncle now hated her. Lyric once adored the opportunity to spend time with him, and no she couldn't image talking to him.

'_But where would I go?_' she thought to herself. She couldn't go live with her mother again, she could barely stand her for the short summer months. She doubted she could get a Muggle job. She wondered if the Three Broomsticks needed a bartender. Not that she knew how to do that, but it seemed like as good an idea as any. Lyric put aside the thoughts for her future and headed to Divination.

Lyric poked her head through the door, and no one seemed to notice her at first. Lyric was relieved to find that no one knew the story. Yet. Rita was good with gossip, but no one was that fast. Professor Trelawney, seemingly oblivious to the morning's events, asked Lyric where she had been.

"You should know," she shot at the professor, before quickly adding, "I was with my uncle."

"Of course you were, I knew that" said Trelawney, "now please take a seat, we will be writing horoscopes for our partners."

Lyric started to head towards Iona, but Iona had already paired up with Gretchen Hart. She tried to get Iona's attention, but she was avoiding Lyric. The only person without a partner was Griselda. Lyric groaned audibly. This day could not get any worse. She took her seat next to Griselda who was trying to look busy.

"I don't need a partner, thank you," Griselda said without looking up from her star charts.

"You do, now get over it. What's your birthday?" Lyric just wanted this to be as civil as possible.

"Why should I tell you, I don't need a partner," Griselda was defiant.

"Listen Griselda, I know you're stubborn as an ass and twice as ugly," so much for civility, "but I have had a really bad day and it's not even noon. Pull that stick out of your ass for a second and let me do this assignment, got it?"

Griselda was a little taken aback. But she quickly gave in to Lyric, perhaps only because she was scared of her. "July 23, and you?" Griselda asked, feigning happiness.

"February 14. Make a joke about being born on Valentine's Day and I'll hex you in your sleep." Lyric said before burying herself in her book. Lyric thought she could get used to this being callous to everyone. It sure made dealing with the assholes a lot easier.

After completing Griselda's horoscope, Lyric turned it in to Trelawney and asked if she could leave class a few minutes early to visit to loo. Lyric didn't want to have to talk to any of the other students, at least not right now. Lyric attended the rest of her classes and remained nasty to everyone. She avoided going to lunch. Even if she had been hungry, she wasn't ready to face the entire school, not to mention her uncle. Lyric decided to hang out in her room until her afternoon classes started.

When she entered the Gryffindor common room she saw Tristan lounging on the couch in front of the fireplace. Lyric wanted to be calm when she confronted Tristan.

"Shouldn't you be off screwing over another friend of yours?" Lyric asked. Obviously, she had not had the chance to calm down.

Tristan shot off the couch. "I did you a favor," he said, annoyance in his voice.

"A favor?" Lyric asked sarcastically, "Do you want to know what your 'favor' earned me? Detention, three nights a week, until Easter. You call that a favor?"

"I didn't earn you that detention. That bitch Skeeter was going to take the fall for those pictures. I framed her perfectly, and you had to go and confess. I assume you took all the blame, since I'm still here."

"You can thank me for not ratting you out. You deserve it. You ought to be the one in detention, not me!" Lyric screamed.

"You think Snape would be happy with letting me get off with detention? He would have insisted that Dumbledore put me on the next broomstick out of Hogsmeade. You got off easy, Lyric. Another perk of being headmaster's niece." Tristan was now yelling.

"You know better than anyone that I get no special treatment from my uncle. And why the hell are you yelling at me? You're the one who betrayed me and sold me out. If anyone should be yelling, it's me," Lyric screamed at Tristan.

"You are yelling," Tristan shouted back. Lyric and Tristan were both silent for a minute, then Tristan began laughing.

"What is so funny?" Lyric asked him, devoid of amusement.

"Nothing, it's just, you being mad. It's a funny sight. C'mon, Lyric, you know you can't stay mad at me. I'm sorry for what I did. It was wrong." Tristan's good nature and happy grin had returned.

Lyric looked like she was likely to explode. "You think that a simple apology is going to fix all of this?" Lyric's voice had dropped and became somewhat calmer. "I don't know if this is forgivable Tristan. I can't imagine ever being happy with you again."

Tristan looked heartbroken. "Please, Lyric, don't let seven years of friendship be wiped out by my stupidity."

"Why did you do it?"

"It was your idea, you wanted revenge," Tristan responded.

"No, why did you publish those pictures? I told you not to, and you did it anyway. Why?"

Tristan remained silent.

"WHY?" Lyric screamed at her friend.

"I can't tell you that," Tristan said meekly.

"Then I have nothing more to say to you," Lyric said sadly, she then headed up to her room.

Lyric remained in her room until her next class was about to start. When she walked through the common room, Tristan was nowhere to be seen. Lyric was thankful for that. Throughout the rest of her classes, Lyric remained quiet and she dare not make eye contact with anyone. Rita had been hard at work clearing her name in fingering Lyric as the true offender. The students could talk of nothing else that day, so whenever Lyric entered a room, it became very quiet.

Just before Potions began, Lyric locked herself in the girls' bathroom. She didn't want to face Snape or Tristan. Lyric finally rationed that not attending class would be worse, since her first detention was tonight. She collected herself as best she could and headed to class. When she entered the room, no one was chatting as they had been in previous classes. Lyric looked to the front of the classroom as saw why. Snape was perched behind his desk staring angrily at the class. Lyric froze when Snape's gaze reached her.

"Sit!" he commanded loudly, so that the entire class snapped their head in Lyric's direction.

Shaking, Lyric took her seat next to Iona.

"After certain events this morning," Snape began while still staring at Lyric, "I believe that it is necessary to teach my students the importance of obedience. Much like the Imperius Curse, the Acquiescence Potion commands a certain amount of submission. Be warned, students, that the potion is illegal to use and will earn you a lifetime sentence in Azkaban, unless of course, you have permission from the Ministry to administer it. I would hate to have to apply for a permit to administer the potion to one of my students."

Lyric's face had turned bright red and she tried hard to keep from crying.

"There has been precedent in the past when a teacher was allowed to administer it to a student, so I wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry were to grant me that right. Consider this a warning."

Lyric wasn't sure if Snape was addressing the class or just her.

When class ended, Lyric shot out of her seat, eager to get away. Iona was faster than her though.

"Iona!" Lyric called after her in the hallway. Iona either didn't hear her, or was ignoring her. "Iona!" she said, finally catching up to her and grabbing her shoulder. "Is there any reason you've been ignoring me all day?"

"No, I mean… I haven't been ignoring you," Iona said, desperate to get away. Several students were eagerly trying to eavesdrop onto the conversation.

"Don't lie to me, what is the problem?" Lyric said, ignoring her audience.

Iona lowered her voice so that no one could hear, "Rita's trying to pin what happened on someone else, and since Tristan had an alibi with Filch, I'm the one she's looking at. I figure distancing myself from you would keep from giving Rita the chance to "interview" us."

"Iona, that's ridiculous. No one believes what she writes anyway, and besides half of Gryffindor saw you in our common room last night." Lyric was pleading with her friend.

"Listen, Lyric can we talk later? People are staring." Iona was cold.

"Fine," Lyric mumbled as she let go of her friend's shoulder.

Lyric opted not to go to dinner that night. She was starving, but that really didn't matter. Lyric went to her room and decided to take nap. She had just barely closed her eyes when she heard people in her room. She sat up groggily to see Amaryllis and Amarantha walk into the room.

"Where have you been?" asked Amarantha, "You missed dinner."

"Didn't much feel like eating," Lyric replied.

"So," Amaryllis ventured, "how are you?" Sweet Amaryllis, she could tell Lyric was upset, and didn't want to upset her even more.

"Okay, I guess." Lyric was short in her reply.

"Okay? Please, you've done the worst thing any student has ever done at Hogwarts, and from what Tristan tells us, you're in for the punishment of a lifetime." Amarantha clearly didn't care who she upset.

Lyric jumped at the word punishment. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Quarter past eight," said Amarantha.

"Oh God!" Lyric jumped out of her bed, down the stairs, and out of the common room. She couldn't believe she was going to be late for detention with Snape. Lyric was running as fast as she could, though it didn't matter since she was already late. Lyric reached a corner and turned, running into something hard. She felt a pain explode in her head as she fell and a pain explode in her bottom when she hit the ground.

"OW!" she screamed, "What the hell!" she said looking at the feet in front of her, her pain subsided and was replaced by fear as she looked up slowly at the person she had run into. It was none other than Severus Snape.


	14. Why?

_Enjoy kiddies._

**Chpt. 14- Why?**

Snape glared at Lyric as she sat on the floor rubbing her head. Snape had been carrying an abnormally large book, the title of which Lyric was sure had been imbedded on her forehead. Lyric, too frightened of the Potions professor to move, simply sat on the floor and stared.

"When I say eight o'clock, Miss Dumbledore, I mean eight o'clock. I do not expect you to wander in whenever you damn well please." Snape silently stared at her on the floor for another minute. "Get up, stupid girl," he commanded.

"If you'll just excuse my massive head trauma," Lyric said as she picked herself off the ground. She had been rude to everyone else today; it was hard to know when to stop.

If at all possible, the angry look on Snape's face became even angrier. "There is no running in the halls. Ten points from Gryffindor and I'll extend your detention another week."

"I was running to get to your office," Lyric complained. Upon seeing the look on Snape's face, she quickly added, "Sir," in a much nicer tone of voice.

"Miss Dumbledore, I realize that because of who your uncle is, you don't feel the need to follow that rules as the rest of the students must do. But that sort of behavior will not fly with me. If you ever again speak to me like that, I will recommend that you be expelled. Do we have an understanding?"

Snape's dark eyes were boring into Lyric's green ones. Lyric felt as though he may be trying to read her thoughts. "Yes sir," she said, free of sarcasm. Snape simply nodded, then turned to walk down the hall to his office.

Lyric stood for a minute staring at the back of Snape's head as he walked away. He then turned and looked at the girl, "I believe you're supposed to be following me," he hissed.

Lyric silently followed Snape to his office. His office was much like his living quarters. Random collection of furniture, including a ratty looking brown leather couch and a large mahogany desk that had no doubt been beautiful at one point, but had was now shabby with years of abuses. There was another collection of scary things in jars, some more terrifying than in his bedroom. Bookcases flanked a long table against the farthest wall filled with old potions textbooks. Gloriously absent was any sign of Muggle literature that Lyric had found so intriguing in Snape's living quarters.

Snape nodded to the long table against the farthest wall. It was full of a few random papers and a large tray that contained several vials labeled with students' names. "You'll be helping me test these tonight, Miss Dumbledore. My first years have been having trouble brewing this simple Engorgement Potion."

Lyric looked at her professor with disgust.

"Don't give me that look! Do as you're told or you'll be on the next portkey out of Hogwarts," he barked.

Lyric obeyed her professor and walked over to the tray of potions. She took the out of the first one and lifted it to her lips. Snape grabbed the vial from her grasped and stared in disbelief. "Stupid girl, did you think I wanted you to drink the potion?"

"You said to test them!" Lyric protested.

"Not on yourself! For Merlin's sake, I didn't think any seventh year would be that daft," he insulted. "These potions are potentially poisonous. They were brewed by first years after all, though I now think some of them to be smarter than you. Do you think I'm trying to end your life?"

"As a matter of fact, I do think you've had it out for me since you came to this school. I wouldn't put it past you to kill me!" Lyric shouted. "Though, I'd rather be dead than serving detention with you!"

Snape's voice had calmed considerable. "I assure you, Miss Dumbledore, that if I was inclined to kill you, I would be sure to inflict more pain than a simple poisoning," he hissed softly. "But," he added in a slightly more pleasant tone of voice, "I am not a murderer. However, if you are so inclined to end your life rather than serve your detentions with me, I won't get in your way." Snape offered the vial back to Lyric.

The anger within Lyric wanted to take the potion, just to show up her professor. But somewhere in the back of her head reason spoke up, telling her drinking the vial would not have been a good idea. Lyric silently cursed her sense of reason, as she took the vial from Snape and replace the stopper. Trying desperately to save face, Lyric glared at her professor as she sweetly asked, "How would you like me to test these potions, Professor Snape?"

Snape responded by pulling a large jar out from under his desk. It was filled with greenish-grey goo and it appeared to be moving. "Slugs," Snape said. "A few drops for each should be sufficient. You'll need to simply write down the reactions, I will assign the grade later," Snape slipped a roll of parchment and a quill at Lyric. "You'll want your wand at the ready. Just in case." Snape then turned towards his desk, where he sat down and began grading.

Lyric turned her attention to the slugs. Snape hadn't given her gloves or anything, so she assumed that she was to just reach into the jar and grab one. She bravely reached into the jar and grabbed for a slug. Her hand made a squishing noise as she fished for one of the animals. Lyric brought her hand out of the jar to find a particularly large slug clinging to the back of her hand. She tried to shake the slug off, but it stuck fast. Lyric used the quill to pry the slug off. She wondered if it was too late to take the potion.

Lyric's work was surprising fun, though she didn't dare let on. Few slugs actually grew as they were supposed to. Several had blown out a puff of blue smoke. One slug had burst into brilliant green flames that were cold to the touch, and a majority of the slugs had begun to enlarge, but instead bounced up and stuck to the ceiling.

The room was abnormally silent. The only noise was the occasional squish of a slug and the two quills in the room scratching across parchment. Lyric wished so much that there were music. She had grown quite fond of a Muggle band called The Beatles over the past few years. Unfortunately, she had not figured out a way to play their music without use of an electronic device, so was without them during school. Without really noticing it, Lyric had begun to hum _Across the Universe_ as she worked.

"Will you desist that awful humming?" Snape suddenly snapped in to the room.

Lyric, a bit embarrassed she had been humming, was eager to have another shouting match with her professor. "Since the conversation seemed to be lacking, I needed something to break the silence. You're not exactly good company, Professor Snape."

Lyric regretted snapping at Snape as he practically jumped out of his seat and crossed the room in two long strides. He bent down to her height and put his face very close to Lyric's. She could feel his breath, hot and moist, on her face. She stared into his black eyes and he stared right back. With merely an inch between them, Snape spoke, "What is it that you'd like to discuss, Miss Dumbledore. You breaking into my chambers? You undressing me? You dressing me up and taking pictures?"

Lyric said nothing. She longed to turn her gaze elsewhere, but she couldn't stop looking into those black eyes. The flame from the candle on the table reflected and danced in his eyes. It was hauntingly beautiful. As Lyric inhaled a breath of air, she drew her face closer to his, which sent a shudder through her body to somewhere deep in her loins.

For a moment, Lyric and Snape stood with faces nearly touching, staring at one another. Lyric, unable to stop herself, moved even closer. Lips nearly touching, Lyric opened her mouth slightly, not quite sure why.

Without even a touch, another tremble went through Lyric's body, inciting an intense pleasure and making her heart race. Lyric gasped audibly and closed her eyes as another quiver of pleasure brought sweet release to Lyric's body. She opened her eyes to Snape's black gaze. The fire in his eyes was no longer from the candle, but from within. Snape's expression had softened as he moved himself ever closer to Lyric.

Just then, a slug detached itself from the ceiling and landing with a splat on the table.

Snape immediately drew back, and turned his gaze away from Lyric. His previous demeanor had returned, "You wanted conversation and now you're silent, is there anything you would like to talk about?" Snape then plastered a sour look upon his face, hoping to make up for his weakness just moments before.

Lyric's heart was still racing from the encounter, but she wasn't about to let Snape in on it. "There is one thing I've been wondering," Lyric said pushing her hair back behind her shoulders, hoping to regain some composure, "why haven't you expelled me? In your short time here, you have proven yourself the most feared and hated professor at Hogwarts. Students flee at the sight of you, and even other teachers are scared to confront you. You were given the opportunity to use the ultimate punishment, and you let me get away with detention. Why?"

Snape's sour look faded, "Why did you pull that prank? In your time at Hogwarts, most people have considered you to be kind and good-hearted. Everyone likes you, students and teachers. And yet, you do something that is so petty, so out of character, so cruel. Why?"

"You didn't answer my question," Lyric said.

"I won't answer yours until you answer mine," Snape said, crossing his arms defiantly in front of himself.

"Same to you," Lyric said, crossing her arms likewise.

"Then it appears we are at an impasse," Snape said.

Lyric was about to respond, but the clock struck ten, interrupting her.

"That is all for tonight," Snape said putting the lid back on the jar of slugs. "Shall we meet again, let's say Saturday evening, eight o'clock sharp?"

"Fine," Lyric said walking quickly out of the office. When she got out of view of Snape's office, her legs became rubbery and Lyric immediately sank to her knees. She sat for a minute, fighting the urge to cry. Eventually she got up and walked to Gryffindor, legs wobbling the entire way there.


	15. The Vow

_I am so sorry that it took so long to update. My kid with his Grandma this weekend, and I actually have nothing to do! My life has settled a bit, so I really hope I can update more often. In the meantime, check out some of my other stories. Some of them are really good._

_Thanks for all the nice reviews. I hope to see more soon. Happy reading!_

**Chpt. 15- The Vow**

By the time Lyric reached the Gryffindor common room, her heart had finally stopped racing and her legs felt steady again. A number of students occupied the common room, playing games of chess or studying. Tristan sat near the fireplace laughing with Peyton and Keith. A group of fourth and fifth year girls sat across room giggling over Tristan and his friends. Iona was talking to Amarantha, but stopped when Lyric entered the room. Lyric caught her eye for a moment, but turned away and headed to her dormitory. Iona followed.

"Lyric," she called when they reach their room.

Lyric ignored her. She had far too much on her mind right now to deal with anyone.

"I know you're mad at me right now and I deserve it, but I was worried about what Rita was going to do." Iona said, pausing for acknowledgement. "I shouldn't have given you the cold shoulder today. I deserted you when needed a friend most. I'm sorry."

"Okay, whatever," Lyric mumbled as she began to pull off her school clothes and put on a pair of pajamas.

"That's it, we're alright then?" Iona asked cautiously.

"Fine, Iona, it doesn't matter," Lyric said annoyed.

Iona was silent for a moment, obviously hurt by Lyric's lack of concern. "Are you alright?" she asked her friend.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Lyric said, tears welling up in her eyes. She had finally reached her breaking point. In a single day, Lyric had been betrayed by her best friend and abandoned by the other. She had disappointed her uncle, the only family that Lyric had ever liked. And she was once again confronted with the conflicting feelings she had for Severus Snape. Lyric wondered how it was even possible to be so entirely fascinated by a man that she so vehemently hated.

"Oh Lyric," Iona cried as she pulled her friend in for a hug, "was detention with Snape really that bad?"

Lyric longed to tell someone what had just happened in Snape's office, but she was pretty sure that Iona would think she was crazy. "It's just everything!" Lyric said through her sobs. "This isn't how I imagined my last year of school. I was so looking forward to it, and now it's all messed up."

"It'll be okay," Iona said, "we'll just have to make up for lost time." Iona said, breaking the hug so she could look at Lyric. "I'm sorry I was a cow."

"It's okay," Lyric said wiping away her own tears. "I'll handle Skeeter. It's me she'll want to crucify anyway."

"Yes, but knowing her, she'll take down anyone else in the process. It's 'The Skeeter Way' to ruin everyone's life," Iona said with a laugh.

"Remember in fourth year, when Rita wrote that Amarantha was born the boy twin, but a mistake with the circumcision forced her to be raised as a girl?" Lyric began to laugh.

"Yeah, then Amarantha got the Beaters to swing a Bludger at her during the Quidditch game. Broke her nose in three places," Iona dissolved into giggles.

The girls sat on Lyric's bed and talked for nearly an hour before the subject of Tristan came up. "Have you talked to him?" Iona asked.

"We talked. But Tristan thought that I would just laugh it off and forgive him. I asked him why he did it, but he said that he couldn't tell me."

"You mean, you don't know why he did it?" Iona said.

"No, do you?" Lyric asked.

"I have a pretty good guess," Iona said looking around the room.

"Tell me," Lyric pleaded.

"I can't, this is something you have to hear from him," Iona said sliding off Lyric's bed and moving towards her own.

"Please, tell me. I need to know," Lyric pleaded again.

"Think about it, Lyric. It's not that complicated. Good night," Iona crawled in her bed and pulled the curtains closed.

"Iona!" Lyric yelled at her friend. But it was no use. Lyric laid back into her bed with a huff. Once again, her questions had gone unanswered. What was worse, was that several more questions had popped into her head. What exactly had happened between her and Snape in his office? Was it just another scare tactic of Snape's, or was there something else there?

Lyric tossed and turned the night away trying to come up with some answers. Dawn came, and Lyric still had not figured anything out, including her own feelings for the potions professor.

Having given up on sleep hours before, Lyric crawled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. She turned on a hot shower and let the water absorb her. Thoughts of the potions professors still ran through Lyric's mind as she showered. Try as she might, she couldn't help but envisioning Snape standing in the shower with her. He refused to touch her, but simply watched. Lyric, fed up with being observed by the imaginary professor, got out of the shower and dressed quickly.

Lyric sighed when she realized that all her roommates were still asleep. No one would be up for at least another hour. Lyric thought she better get to work on some of her homework. She had been far too busy to think of any work yesterday, and she had a large bit parchment due on the migration patterns of the Northern Irish Selkie populations. Lyric grabbed a quill and set to work on her assignment. She was nearly finished by the time all of her roommates had risen and gotten ready for classes.

"Ready to go to breakfast?" Iona asked Lyric after getting dressed.

Lyric's stomach gave an involuntary rumble at the mention of food. She had not eaten since breakfast yesterday, and even then, she had only managed half a piece of toast. Hungry as she was, Lyric was not looking forward to facing the school, her uncle, or Snape. Worst of all, she dreaded Skeeter. Rita would no doubt use this opportunity to destroy Lyric as much as she could.

"I'm not hungry," Lyric lied. "And I need to finish this essay," she lied again.

"Nonsense," said Iona, "you haven't eaten since yesterday morning. Come on, we're going now."

"Iona, I can't," Lyric pleaded. But her words fell on deaf ears as Iona grabbed Lyric by the hand and dragged her down to the Great Hall.

As Lyric entered the hall, no one took notice of her as she thought they would all do. Students seemed all too absorbed by the green pieces of paper they were all reading. Lyric groaned. Rita had no doubt been busy last night.

"Ignore it," said Iona as she took a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Lyric sank down beside her friend, trying to hide her faces among the other Gryffindors.

"I do feel as though my name and reputation has been slandered. Such attacks on the name Rita Skeeter will no doubt ring forever throughout the halls of Hogwarts, despite my lack of involvement," Amarantha was reading from the Wart Report.

"Stupid cow interviewed herself. Of all the self-centered, narcissistic things," Amaryllis grumbled.

Iona, Lyric, and Amarantha looked at the usually quiet twin in surprise. "What?" Amaryllis said defensively, "I hate the bitch!"

Lyric smiled at her friend, "Thanks, I needed that."

Students all around had begun to notice Lyric presence in the Great Hall, but Lyric was too involved with her friends to notice. The girls were soon talking and laughing, while Lyric devoured a very large breakfast. It wasn't long before Rita reared her ugly head.

"If it isn't my favorite headline," Rita laughed as she sat down next to Lyric.

"This is the Gryffindor table, Skeeter. We don't welcome rats." Amarantha said smiling.

Rita ignored her, "Tell me, Lyric," she said, fishing for her pen and notebook, "Can you tell me the reason behind your insane plot?"

"You're treading on thin ice, Rita," Iona warned, "I would hate to have to kill you right now."

"_Death threats, throw around like Fanged Frisbees, are no deterrence to brave journalist Rita Skeeter, who valiantly pushes forward with her line of questioning_." Rita said aloud, as she wrote in her notebook, "Lyric,

The four Gryffindors, having finished their breakfast, decided it would be better to head out to their classes than to be misquoted my Skeeter. They quietly stood up and left the Great Hall. Rita eagerly followed them, all the while continuing to ask questions.

"How has this affected your relationship with your Uncle Albus, Lyric? Is he disappointed by your actions?"

Lyric turned on her feet, stopping Rita who was walking directly behind her. She grabbed Rita acid-green quill and promptly snapped it in two. Rita, looking horrified was about to protest, but Lyric slapped her across the face.

"You'll pay for this Lyric," Rita said as a small trail of blood leaked from her lower lip. "I don't know when and I don't know how, but I vow to get even for this."

Lyric was about to slap Rita again, but all three of her friends jumped up with their wands. "Stupefy," they yelled in unison. Rita instantly fell backwards, stone stiff.

Lyric kicked at Rita's leg. "She'll be out for awhile, we better get to class."

"Bitch," Amarantha said under her breathe as she spit on the unconscious Rita.

Lyric found herself once again happy, despite Rita's ominous vow.

_That's enough for now. More to come soon._


	16. Tree

**Chpt. 16- Tree**

Saturday morning, Lyric woke up with the sun streaming in her dorm room window. All of her roommates were asleep, and Griselda had no doubt spent the night in Slytherin. Lyric felt like some fresh air, so she quickly showered, dressed, and headed out to the grounds.

Early morning walks were Lyric's favorite thing to do at Hogwarts. The castle really was quite breathtaking and the surrounding very serene. When bustling from class to class with a heavy arm-full of books, one tends to forget to stop and take a look around.

As Lyric headed outside, she pulled her coat closed and shivered. Summer had officially melted away, leaving in its wake a relatively mild fall. Despite the good weather, mornings were still a bit chilly. Lyric walked down to the lake and settled for a sit near the base of a large willow tree. An off-shoot of the Whomping Willow, this tree was far less temperamental. The tree, which the students named the Welcoming Willow, actually appreciated visitors. It sighed peacefully as Lyric sat down.

In the distance, Lyric could see a few of the Merpeople playing tag in the early morning sun. She thought about talking to them, but her Mermish was rusty. While staring out at the lake, Lyric became aware of someone watching her. She turned her head to find Snape staring at her. She wondered how long he had been standing there.

"Can I help you?" she asked the dark professor.

"What are you doing out here?" he snapped back, seemingly embarrassed for having been caught staring at her.

"Just gone for a bit of a walk, Professor. Is that alright with you?" Lyric tried to bite back her sarcasm, but it didn't work.

"You're out after curfew, that's grounds for detention, though I expect you wouldn't have the time to serve more."

"It's not after curfew, it's six thirty in the morning. I've been out here this early before and never gotten in trouble." Lyric protested.

"Curfew is from ten o'clock p.m. to seven o'clock the following morning. You've been here for quite some time, therefore you're out after curfew." Snape said triumphantly.

"Then punish me already so I can get back to enjoying the view." Lyric's disdain for the professor was clearly evident.

"You will not speak to me in that tone of voice!" Snape demanded.

"Then you shouldn't go around trying to bother me!" Lyric shouted back. "For God's sake, Professor, you'd think I could get some privacy from time to time, but you won't leave me alone."

Snape looked ready to go ballistic, "I will not let you talk to me like that," he screamed at Lyric, "I don't care who you uncle is, you are not going to act like a child with me."

Lyric was about to protest, but a large tree branch swung down and hit Professor Snape squarely on the head. Lyric had forgotten that while the Welcoming Willow liked people, it did not enjoy any sort of negative words. The fight had been too much for the tree, so it decided to end it.

"Oh shit!" Lyric screamed. She jumped as a branch came swinging at her. "Sorry," she apologized to the tree. She knelt down before the professor. He wasn't bleeding, but Lyric could already see a large knot forming on top of his greasy head.

"Professor?" she said, tapping his cheeks. He groaned, though remained unconscious. "Professor!" she shouted, and slapped him much harder on the cheek. Snape rolled over a bit, then opened his eyes.

"What happened?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Tree got mad at you for yelling," Lyric said.

"What?" Snape asked sitting up and clutching his head in pain.

"Easy, Professor," Lyric warned, "you took it pretty hard. The tree hates it when people fight, so it hit you." Lyric looked back at the tree. It had been so upset that it wrapped itself up in its own branches; the tree really was rather sensitive.

"I was assaulted by a tree?" Snape asked, not sure whether to believe Lyric's story.

"Yeah," Lyric said. Then Lyric felt a rise of laughter coming up. She tried hard to suppress it, but couldn't let it go. Snape stared at her in disbelief as she broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter.

"What, Miss Dumbledore, is so funny? Snape demanded.

"Sorry, Professor," Lyric gasped between laugh, "but the image of you getting beat up by a tree is just too funny."

"You and I do not have an agreeing sense of humor then." Snape said, standing up, still clutching the top of this head.

"You went down like a ton of bricks." Lyric said, still laughing at the situation. "And then, I had to apologize to the tree. I never in my life figured I would have to apologize to a tree."

"I'm glad you find this so funny, Miss Dumbledore. You'll need a sense of humor if I give you more detention." Snape was scowling in his embarrassment.

"Believe me Professor, that was worth at least two or three detentions." Lyric laughter had died down a bit, but she was still grinning widely.

"I'll be forced to give you more if you don't stop laughing this instant!" Snape yelled, inciting another branch to coming swinging in his direction. This time he ducked, but the sight drew another fit of laughter from Lyric.

"We'll discuss this later at your detention," Snape said eyeing the tree. As he turned to leave, Lyric swore she could see a smile flash across Snape's upset face for a minute.


	17. The Cupboard

_Yeah, didn't write much over Spring Break like I planned on doing. Oh well, I'm avoid homework and my job in order to spend more time writing. I wonder if I could get paid to do this. Hmm…._

_Reviews are always nice. I know I have more than one reader, so I oughta to have more than one reviewer! I really love reading anything you guys gotta say, and good reviews definitely motivate me to write. So please, I beg of you all to throw me a kind (hopefully) word or two. Okay enough begging, on with the story:_

_

* * *

_  
**Chpt. 17- The Cupboard  
**

As Lyric ate dinner that evening, she kept stealing glances at her Snape, who would occasionally rub his head where the tree had struck. He had no doubt been too proud to see Madame Pompfrey for the knock to the head. Lyric almost burst into laughter when a leaf came free from Professor Sprout's new hat and floated by his head causing Snape to involuntarily duck.

"What's so funny?" Amarantha asked loudly trying to see where Lyric was looking.

"Nothing," Lyric recovered quickly and turned her attention back her meal. Amarantha continued looking for Lyric source of amusement, as Lyric tried to change the subject. "How are things with your father?" She asked Iona.

"Alright, I guess," she said thoughtfully. "He got my rejection letter from Oxford-Poly. They said that cannot accept students that attended a 'private boarding school that must be kept secret.' My dad just doesn't get it, does he?"

Amaryllis laughed. "At least your dad gets the idea of secrecy. Ours in it with the Ministry again. They told him if he reveals information about the wizarding world one more time, that they'll erase his memory and send him to Brazil."

"Can they do that?" Iona asked. "And more importantly, can they do that to my father?"

"Oh so I see!" Amarantha exclaimed finding what Lyric had been looking at all night. "I was right, I knew it!"

"Right about what?" Iona and Amaryllis asked at the same time.

"That Lyric has an unhealthy obsess-"

"Nothing!" Lyric cut in quickly, giving Amarantha the 'don't say a word' look. "Nothing at all."

"Yeah right, tell me!" Iona insisted loudly.

"No," Lyric responded.

"Something do to with your destiny, perhaps?" Iona ventured a guess.

"Iona, that enough," she lectured. Lyric got up from the table. "I better be getting to detention," she said.

Lyric headed to the Snape's office, but realized not only was Snape still in the Great Hall, but that she still had nearly twenty minutes before her detention was set to start. She didn't want to seem too keen by waiting for him outside his office. Lyric wondered how she could kill twenty minutes. Lyric got a brilliant idea, then headed off to the infirmary.

Madame Pompfrey was changing the linens on one of the beds when Lyric got to the room. "Can I help you, Miss Dumbledore?" she asked without even looking up to see who had entered the room.

"Yes, I, er… bumped my head earlier and it's just killing me. Do you have anything for the pain?"

Twenty minutes later, after finally fooling Madame Pompfrey into thinking she really was in pain, Lyric ran down the corridors to Snape's office holding a small vial of Relaver's Pain Reliever potion. She had insisted Madame Pompfrey give her some to take later, in case her headache come back in the middle of the night.

Lyric skated in the door, just as the clocks struck eight o'clock.

"That was a close one," Snape said, not looking up from his desk.

"Sorry Professor Snape, I was with Madame Pompfrey."

"Doing what?" he asked finally looking up from his desk.

"Getting something for your head," Lyric explained as she set the pain reliever on Snape's desk. Snape stared at the vial as though it would take a bite out of him. "Go ahead, it's not a poison."

"Doubt that," Snape said, taking the top off of the vial and giving it a whiff. "Why did you get this again?"

Lyric was annoyed that the man could simply not accept a token of kindness. "Your head Professor. You took a rather nasty knock this morning, and I noticed at dinner you were in pain, and I knew you were too stubborn to see the Mediwitch about it, so I went for you."

"Did it occur to you that I would just brew my own pain reliever if the pain was too much? I am the bloody Potion's Master, after all." Snape replaced the top on the vial and putting it on his desk.

"Forgive me, sir. For having heart. Won't happen again."

"Miss Dumbledore," Snape started in an eerily calm voice, "I will say this one final time: I will no longer tolerate your cheek. In my classroom, my office, or anywhere else in this school, you will treat me with respect. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," she responded grudgingly, "but a little humanity from you every once and a while would be greatly appreciated." Before Snape had a chance to respond, Lyric asked, "What would you like me to do today, sir?"

"Cauldrons need to be scrubbed and polished. Cleaning supplies are in my supplies cupboard down the hall. You'll need a steel-wire brush, a few rags, and polish."

"Yes sir," Lyric said happily as she skipped out of the office towards the supplies cupboard. She reached out to the pull the door handle, but found it to be locked. "Bugger," she cursed to herself knowing that she would be unable to break the ward. She walked slowly back to Snape's office. "Professor," she called out sweetly. "The door is lock. Might you come unlock it?"

Snape got up from the table annoyed and stomped out the door. Lyric couldn't help but notice that the vial she had given him was now empty and lay askew on the desk.

She followed him down the hall and watched as he raised his wand to the door but paused before turning it on Lyric, "_Nonsanus_." A small yellow light emitted from the wand, hitting Lyric square in the chest.

Instantly, Lyric was forced into a very silent world. She had never noticed the noise that echoed through the corridors of Hogwarts until now when it was gone. She watched as Snape turned his wand to the door and said something, but she could not make it out.

"What have you done?" Lyric yelled at the professor, startled that she was unable to her herself speak. He again pointed his wand at Lyric, but she dived away from its blast. Snape glared at her and said something that Lyric thought looked like 'Stupid girl,' as Lyric tried to get away from Snape, thinking he was trying to kill her.

She turned to go down the corridor, but Snape caught her by the back of the neck. He turned her around, holding her at arm's length and pointed his want and mouthed another incantation as another yellow light crept out from his wand. Instantly sound returned to Lyric's ear.

"What the hell did you do to me?" she yelled at her professor, finding her voice louder than she had intended.

"I couldn't let you know the password." Snape said as he walked back to the supply cupboard.

"A little warning would have been nice." Lyric said, her voice returning to normal.

Snape didn't respond, but disappeared into the cupboard. A few moments later he stuck his head out to look back at Lyric, "You coming?"

Lyric followed him into the supply cupboard, suddenly wearier of his wand. "Lumos," he said his wand light up the room. He set the wand on a shelf near the door, so as to provide light to the entire cupboard. "Bottom shelf," he said to Lyric as he climbed up the ladder.

Lyric bent down to find the supplies she needed when the light simply vanished. "Professor, what-" She turned to see Snape halfway up the ladder and Peeves floating in the doorway with Snape's wand.

Peeves let out a hideous cackle. "Have fun, Beer-Nick!" he yelled as he slammed the door, enveloping Lyric and Snape in the dark.

* * *

_Cliffy, I know…I hate 'em too. But it might just motivate me to update sooner. Happy reading, y'all and get to it with the reviews!  
_


	18. Trapped in the Cupboard

_Title sounds a bit like R. Kelly's silly little song, but that's really not what I was going for here. Yeah, more drawn out sexual tensions. We'll see if I ever do anything with it. Maybe I'll draw it out till I get more reviews. But then I might be punishing myself more than you. Um, yeah. Enjoy!_

_

* * *

_  
**Chpt 18- Trapped in the Cupboard**

"Peeves!" Snape and Lyric yelled at the same time. Lyric reached out to the door, but Snape had jumped off the ladder and beat her to it. In the dark, her hands closed around Snape's arm.

Snape clawed at the door. "Peeves, you evil little git! Open this door immediately!" Peeves either chose to ignore them, or had flown off down the hall to do some damage with Snape's wand.

Lyric and Snape were silent for a few moments, hoping to get a respond from Peeves. They both realized Lyric grip on Snape's arm at the same time. Lyric immediately let go as Snape jerked his arm away.

"So," she said to the professor. "Go ahead and open it."

"I don't have my wand," he replied coldly.

"You have the password," Lyric insisted.

"And I need both in order to break the ward. This cupboard has many dangerous elements if fallen in to the wrong hands. I had to make sure it was difficult to break into" he hissed.

"Did you also have to make it difficult to get out?" she pleaded at the professor.

"It's not my fault the door locks from the other side!" Snape's voice did a crescendo so that he was yelling.

Lyric was about to yell back at the professor, when she suddenly became very aware of where she was. She felt a wave of panic surge over her. She sank on her knees to the floor as she pictured the walls narrowing. Her heart began racing and she began to breathe uncontrollably.

"What's happening? What are you doing? Are you on the floor?" Snape yelled, fumbling in the dark for Lyric.

Lyric could not stop the fell-fledged panic attack that had suddenly gripped her in the darkness. "Claus-s-stroph-ph-ob-bic," she managed to wheeze in between breaths. The darkness crept out as a blinding white light invaded Lyric's vision. Tears stung her face. She felt the blood draining from her head as she struggled for each breath. Each shallow breath brought Lyric closer and closer to losing consciousness.

Without her realizing it, Snape had grabbed her by the chin and forced open her mouth, and strange sweet liquid trickled down her throat almost causing Lyric to choke. In her current state of panic, Lyric impulsively bucked against her professor, trying to get away from him. But Snape wrapped her firmly in his arms as he held her mouth closed so she would swallow. When the liquid had finally reached her stomach, Lyric heart slowed and her breathing returned to normal. The white light of panic had again faded to black as her body collapsed into Snape's arms.

Lyric felt an overwhelming sense of tranquility lying in his arms, his long limbs tied her up in safety. She didn't want to leave. However, the thought of Rita finding the two of them trapped in a closet in that position invaded her mind, so Lyric finally sat up. Snape held her close for another moment, but must have had similar thoughts and he quickly let go.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, made worse due to the lack of light.

"Sorry about that," Lyric finally spoke, suddenly embarrassed at her panic attack. "Tight spaces… make me uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable?" Snape asked. "Bit of an understatement, don't you think?"

"Alright, so I'm fucking terrified of small spaces!"

"Language, Miss Dumbledore."

"What did you give me anyway?" Lyric asked, still tasting the sweet liquid on her mouth.

"Calming potion," Snape said. "Usually reserved for intense trauma patients."

Lyric wasn't sure if he was joking. So she changed the subject. "Any thoughts on how to get out?"

"Not really. I assume you don't have your wand on you, do you?"

"No," Lyric responded, "I'm in jeans and a T-shirt. Where would I put it?"

"You should know better than to be caught without a wand, Miss Dumbledore."

"Says the man who let Peeves take his wand. That poltergeist is gonna destroy half the bloody school before we get out of here."

Snape remained silent. Lyric wished like hell she could see, wondering what the look on his face was. He didn't say anything for a very long time.

"Well, this is fun," Lyric said, not necessarily talking to Snape.

"You aren't going to start humming are you?" Snape asked, his voice near the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Lyric asked, turning her head upwards.

"Looking," he responded.

"In the dark?" she asked confusedly.

"This is my store cupboard, I know where everything is," he replied coolly. "I found the calming potion, didn't I?"

"What are you looking for?" she called up the ladder.

"Something that'll destroy the door. I know there's got to be some Aderate acid up here, my second years were just making some last week. Here it is, I think."

"You think?" Lyric asked quietly as Snape came off the ladder. Lyric heard the acid splash against the door. Then nothing. "Now what?" she asked him.

"We wait."

Lyric, who had been sitting on the floor since her panic attack, felt Snape sit down next to her. She breathed deeply and was caught by the scent of pipe tobacco. She felt the warmth of his body next to hers. Lyric smiled quietly. In the dark, Snape wasn't quite so scary.

"I'm sorry for the panic attack earlier," Lyric said, finding the silence awkward.

"It's quite alright, Miss Dumbledore. I don't blame you. Can I ask why you panicked like that though?"

"Um, just a bit claustrophobic is all. Ever since I was six and my cousin Corlissa locked me in a trunk in my aunt's attic. Took a day for my aunt to realize I was missing, and another six hours for her find me."

"Ah," Snape said, having moved closer to the door to see if the acid was working. When he came back to sitting position, he moved closer to Lyric, pressing himself against her. "Cruel cousins, then?"

"No, not all of them. Corlissa is just a particularly nasty excuse for a human being. She feels the need to be a terrible ass because she's got a rather sizable one. She and Rita Skeeter would get along famously."

Snape let out a noise that sounded like a chuckle, but Lyric couldn't be sure. Again silence consumed the cupboard.

"Ever read Poe's 'The Cask of Amontillado?'" Snape asked.

"That's not funny, Professor," Lyric said, a hint of panic rising in her voice.

Snape chuckled again, but this time Lyric was sure it had been a laugh.

"Are you, Professor Snape, laughing? Have you gone mad? Who are you?" Lyric mocked, her previous feelings of panic disappearing.

"Don't get too excited, Miss Dumbledore, it was just a cough. I didn't laugh."

"Liar."

"That acid isn't working," Snape said frustrated as he leaned towards the door. He moved back against the wall, sitting even closer to Lyric. He leaned his face close into Lyric's; she could feel his breath against her cheek. "We may have to spend all night here, you know?"

Lyric heart began to quicken again, but not because she was panicked. "Professor, I-"

Just then, someone outside the door bellowed, "_Bat wings_!" and the door flew open and the light from the corridor flooded in. Lyric and Snape both shielded their eyes from the light as Dumbledore walked into the cupboard. The smile on his face seemed to fade as he saw Snape and Lyric huddled together on the floor. "Peeves flooded the Great Hall and locked all of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins in their common rooms with your wand, Severus. I trust you can take better care of it in the future."

"Sorry sir, little bugger grabbed it when I wasn't paying attention." Snape said, jumping up off the floor and away from Lyric.

"Don't worry, he'll think twice before coming down to the dungeons anytime soon."

"Thank you, sir." Snape turned to Lyric, "Under the circumstances, Miss Dumbledore, you are free to leave tonight. We'll save your work for Tuesday perhaps, in my office, eight o'clock sharp."

"Yes, Professor Snape," Lyric said, finally getting up off the floor herself. Snape quickly left the cupboard and headed to his office. He shut the door with a slam that echoed through the halls.

"Lyric," Albus started, "are you alright?" He knew of her claustrophobia.

"I'm fine, really. Professor Snape gave me a calming potion he had in the cupboard. It was fine."

"Good. I'll let you get to bed. Come by my office, sometime. It's been too long since we talked."

Lyric felt a pang of guilt. While her and Tristan we're setting up the prank, she had only been to visit her uncle once, and after getting in trouble, she felt she couldn't face him. "I will, tomorrow night. I promise."

"Good night, dear."

"Good night, Uncle Albus." On her way back to Gryffindor, Lyric passed Peeves in the hallway. Without being able to stop herself, she smiled at the poltergeist. She wanted to tell him thanks, but just managed to restrained herself.


	19. The Deal

_I'm back with another installment. It's short, but it sets up a lot of good stuff. Finals are coming up (Boo!), but it means summer will be here and I will have more time to write (Hurrah!)._

_I would also like to mention that I am looking for a Beta, because no matter how hard I try, I still make grammar mistakes. Plus, a little feedback on storyline would be nice. So if anyone is interested, e-mail me (should be on my profile) or drop me a message. I'm happy to read for you as well._

_As always reviews are the elixir of life without which my story would rot and die. So take a few moments out of your life to tell me if you like it, hate it, love it, or whatever. Happy Reading!_

**

* * *

Chpt 19- The Deal**

Lyric walked in the Gryffindor common room to find a number of students giggling at her. She ignored them, walking straight up to her room. As soon as she entered, she was practically thrown onto her bed. Amarantha shoved a Chocolate frog at her and said, "Okay, tell me everything."

"About what?" Lyric was bewildered by her friend's behavior.

"Don't be stupid," Amarantha gasped, "tell me about being locked in the closet with Severus Snape."

"What?" Lyric felt her face grow hot with embarrassment. "How could you possibly know about that?"

"Peeves came into the Great Hall and announced to everyone that the two of you were alone, trapped in the dark." Amarantha smiled brightly at Lyric. "So, I want all the dirty details."

"There are no dirty details!" Lyric defended, trying not to think of the past hour she had spent in close proximity with her professor. "Peeves locked us in, I had a panic attack, and then my uncle rescued us. There is nothing else to tell."

Amarantha gave Lyric an all-knowing smirk before rescinding. "Fine, if that's the story you're going to tell."

"It's not a story, it's the truth. Let it rest."

The week went on with few other incidences, Lyric ended up serving both detentions during the week with Filch, as Snape had other business to attend to in London. Lyric was outwardly grateful to get away from the surly professor, but she found she missed him a little.

By Friday, Snape had returned. Lyric tried to contain her enthusiasm as she walked into his classroom for Potions.

"Wormwood is an essential ingredient to several well-known potions," Snape lectured high atop his chair, "but you must be careful, for it contains the toxic oil _thujone_. If not treated properly and brewed precisely, you may find yourself with a simple, yet deadly poison that any Muggle could brew."

"Professor Snape?" a voice asked from the back of the room.

The class turned to see Tristan with his hand raised. It was a bit of a shock. Since Lyric's punishment was handed down, Tristan had been laying low in the school. He hardly spoke up in class anymore, and he had pretty much left the first years alone.

"Mr. Merton, you have a question?"

"Yes sir, I believe that wormwood is one of the main ingredients in Absinthe, correct?

The class giggled slightly, but stopped to gage Snape's reaction. An out-of-place look of amusement spread across Snape's face.

"Why yes it is, Mr. Merton. Is there a reason that you ask?"

"Well, I wanted to know if there was anyway to make sure that Absinthe didn't have the _thujone_ oil in it?"

"If Absinthe is brewed properly from someone that knows what they are doing, it shouldn't be harmful, save for the side effects of such potent liquor. Why did you want to know?"

"Oh nothing, Sir, just curious is all."

"I am hoping that no Absinthe has been brewing a Gryffindor bathtub for the past few weeks in preparation for the Quidditch match this weekend."

Tristan remained silent for a moment. "No sir," he finally spoke. Lyric eyed him suspiciously. No wonder their hall smelled of booze for the past few weeks.

"Good. I would hate to have to expel a student for such an offense." His amusement subsided, and Snape went back to being ordinary, scowling Snape. "That is all for today. I want two feet on the proper brewing techniques for wormwood due on Monday."

The class emitted a familiar groan.

Snape turned to glare at them, "Just because there is a Quidditch match, I won't allow my students to fall behind on their studies. You came to school to learn about magic, not cruise around on a bloody broomstick. If I hear one more complaint, it'll be three feet due."

Iona rolled her eyes at Lyric as the two packed up their stuff. Lyric didn't say anything. As she and Iona were headed out the door, she suddenly stopped.

"What?" Iona asked.

"I've got to talk to Professor Snape; I'll see you at lunch." Before Iona could protest, Lyric had walked to Snape's desk and stood looking at him. He didn't seem to notice her.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape?"

"What is it Miss Dumbledore?" he asked without looking up from the papers he was grading.

"Just wondering, is there any way to move my detention to Sunday evening, rather than tomorrow?"

"No." He answered shortly.

"But Sir-"

Snape threw down the quill he had been using and finally looked up at Lyric. "C'mon then, let's hear your excuse. What grand reason do you have for not fulfilling your punishment?"

"I'm not trying to get out of it, I want to move it. There is a difference you know." Lyric felt anger rising in her chest. Where was her professor from last week? The one that had saved her from the panic attack and had joked and laughed with her in the closet.

"The punishment is that you serve detention when I say so, not whenever you damn well please." Snape had risen out of his chair and moved to the other side of the desk. "What's the reason then? Got a date with Tristan. Planning to bath with him in Absinthe?" he asked, moving closer and closer to Lyric.

"The Quidditch match," she answered, her hatred returning. He was mocking her.

"The match will hopefully be over by the time your detention is set to start, unless the teams are out to break the 'Longest Game Record.' You should have no trouble getting here on time."

"Well Sir, there's bound to be an after party in Gryffindor."

"What? To celebrate your loss? You're playing my Slytherins. Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance."

"Doubt that, Amarantha's been having practice eight times a week. And besides, if Slytherin does win, won't you want to celebrate your victory?" Lyric knew it was a long shot, but it might work.

"Partying with a bunch of teenagers isn't exactly my idea of fun," Snape said. He then turned to his bookcase, pretending to look for a book.

"So is that a 'no' Sir?"

"Tell you what Miss Dumbledore, if Gryffindor wins, you won't have any detention this weekend; but if Slytherin wins, you'll spend a double detention with me Saturday night."

Lyric weighed her options. "You promise?" she asked cautiously.

"I am many things that people do not like, but I am not a liar."

"Deal," Lyric said.

"See tomorrow night, eight o'clock sharp." Snape said before returning to his papers.

"Don't count on it," Lyric called as she headed out the door.

* * *

_Will write more soon. But it is birthday weekend, so I have a lot of partying to do. No promises, but I'll shoot for one more chapter by Sunday._


	20. The Quidditch Match

_Since DramaAnne asked me so nice, I decided to write another chapter while sleep-derived at 2 in the am. I apologize in advance for any typos, verb confusion, and general suckiness of this chapter. Despite my efforts, I still haven't gotten to the good part yet (it's coming soon, I promise!), so read on to find out the results of a rather unusual Quidditch match. And look for a reference to my favorite British actor (he's a Quidditch player). House points for whoever can tell me where he's from and something he's been in.  
_

_Still looking for a Beta. Am almost getting desperate for one. My e-mail is Let me know if interested in a correspondence._

_I won't rant again about getting reviews, since it's pretty futile (except for DramaAnne, who always leaves one (thank you)). Enough of my self-centered, ramblings, let's get the story I know you're all dying to read._

**

* * *

Chpt 20- The Quidditch Match**

The rain had begun falling on Saturday morning just before breakfast.

"Not a big deal," said Amarantha, "we've played in harder weather than this." As soon as she said it, a clap of thunder let loose from the heavens and the rain poured hard and furious from the sky. "Well, we've played in weather this bad anyway."

As the Quidditch match neared, the rain showed no sign of letting up, and the wind had begun to howl. Gusts of wind swept across the pitch, nearly blowing down the rather sturdy stands.

"I'm not asking for a perfectly clear day, I just think that it could be dangerous to play like this. I know you're not supposed to use them unless it's an emergency, but students could be in danger. Can't you request that the ministry makes an exception?" Amarantha was heard pleading with McGonagall just minutes before the game was about to begin.

"Miss Parker, for that last time, I cannot and will not use a Weather Charm for a game of Quidditch! If conditions become too harsh, we shall cancel and reschedule the game. As far as Madam Hooch is concerned, both teams can still play. If you ask me one more time, I shall bar you from playing. Is that understood?" The Scot certainly had a knack for chastising.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," Amarantha looked defeated, but quickly put on a happy face for her team.

Lyric and Iona made their way slowly to the pitch. Walking against the wind into the freezing cold rain was not easy. The wind was so cold that most of the rain froze. Small, high velocity pieces of ice cut into any exposed skin. Iona figured out that walking directly behind Hagrid helped to shield most of the sleet.

From high atop the stands, it was almost impossible to see the other side of the pitch, and students could barely make out the players.

"Perhaps Amarantha was on to something, this doesn't seem safe." Iona yelled over the howl of the wind.

Lyric was about to shout out an answer when she saw Tristan standing right besides them. "Can I help you?" she asked disdainfully.

"I'm just here to watch the game with Iona, is that alright with you?"

Lyric glared at Iona, knowing she had invited him along. "You may do as you please," she answered curtly, before turning a cold shoulder on both her friends.

Tristan quietly took his spot next to Iona, without even making a joke on what Lyric had just said.

"So…" Iona started awkwardly, but was cut off by Regina Givens announcing the start of the game.

The whistle blew, and the game began. Much to the chagrin of the students and faculty, the beginning of the game was rather dim, making the weather even more miserable. Larissa Roberts and Amarantha were Gryffindor's Chasers, but they were fighting against the cold rain, making it impossible to fly very fast. Slytherins had the advantage, as the wind was to their backs while scoring.

Slytherin had scored only twice when the Snitch made its presence known. Gryffindor Seeker Jack Davenport and Slytherin Seeker Rhiannon Thomas both saw the small golden ball hovering low to the ground at the center of the field at the exact same moment.

Coming from opposite directions, the wind at their sides. The two aimed ever lower for the Snitch. They seemed more desperate to get out of the rain than to actually win the game. Within mere inches of the Snitch and each other, the ball angled upwards as a particularly large gust of wind blew into both players. Unable to stop, the two ran into each other full forced. The impact emitted a sickening thud that could be heard throughout the pitch, despite the howling wind.

The crowd let out a collective "Oooh," before falling silent waiting to see if the players were alright. Jack was the first to move. He rolled over slightly, bleeding profusely from the head. He looked around for a moment. When it seemed he finally realized where he was, he quickly scrambled to find his broom and jumped back on to head after the Snitch.

Meanwhile, Slytherin Keeper William Brooke had been so concerned with the condition of Rhiannon; it allowed Gryffindor to score twice without the entire crowd even really noticing.

Rhiannon came to fairly soon, seemingly without injury. She also hopped up on her broom and took off to try and win the game.

As Jack and Rhiannon went off in search of the Snitch, Amarantha turned her attention back to be met with a Bludger to the face, compliments of Slytherin Beater Annabelle Lewis. A spray of blood against the grey sky was the first indicator that something was wrong. Amarantha sat perched on her broom calmly for nearly another thirty seconds, before completely passing out and sliding off the end. Peyton, a Beater, set off to catch his captain just before she hit the ground. He set her safely on the ground before ditching his broomstick to make sure she was okay.

Iona, Lyric, and Tristan all gasped as she fell, but collectively exhaled when Peyton caught her.

Slytherin Chasers Michael Fitzsimmons and James Farnsworth, grabbed this opportunity to score again, but Keith, the other Gryffindor Beater knocked the same Bludger that had hit Amarantha towards William Brooke. Brooke took it in the right arm. He nearly fell off his broom but managed to stay on, though he would have a tough time defending.

At this point, neither team cared about scoring, or the game. And near madness broke out on the pitch. Gryffindor Keeper Daniel Lyons and Keith began swinging Bludgers and even the Quaffle at the opposing team. Slytherin responded by trying to knock the remaining Gryffindors off their brooms.

Madame Hooch began calling fouls all over the field, but the players seemed to ignore her. Rhiannon and Jack had disappeared sometime during the mass of injuries and returned to view neck and neck over the Snitch. Both teams were tied, and it was evident that no one else was likely to score, as Daniel was now knocking Annabelle over the head with a Quaffle.

Both players, their robes soaked through and their fingers frozen stiff sat low to their broomsticks with arms outstretched. They moved as though in slow motion, though still racing through the sleet. Jack's newer broomstick proved to be a good investment as he pulled slightly into the lead, his fingers fighting to close around the Snitch. Rhiannon, seemingly beaten, began to fall back, prepared to hand Gryffindor the game.

At that moment, a rogue Bludger came soaring from nowhere and caught Jack on the side of the cheek. He was knocked sideways off the broomstick and rolled several times making varying points of contacts with the muddy ground. Rhiannon, in a moment of sheer delight, shot forward, close her frozen hand around the golden ball and let a scream of pure delight.

"Slytherin wins!" Regina shouted.

Slytherin burst into hysterics, as the rest of the students began screaming at the unsportsmanlike conduct of the Slytherin team. Teachers burst out onto the fields to help the injured students to the infirmary, as the students began to file out of the stands, trading insults with the Slytherins.

Iona, Lyric, and Tristan stood quietly while the rest of the students around them were alive with either anger or excitement.

"I know we lost, but that was one of the best games I've ever seen. Amarantha taking that Bludger to the face was amazing."

Iona and Lyric just stared at him for a moment. "I'm so glad you find one of our best friends near-death experience so amusing." Lyric scolded him.

"Lighten up, Lyric. I'm guessing Amarantha is fine and she'll probably tell this story to everyone she meets. She's loves the attention that comes with massive injuries."

"At exactly what point in your life did you become a total prat? You used to be civil, and have morals and decency. But lately, you've managed to alienate everyone and everything around you. Right, Iona?"

"Don't get me in the middle of this," said, started to head out of the stands.

Lyric stayed for a moment, glaring at Tristan. "I still never got the truth out of you."

Tristan didn't even look at Lyric, but followed Iona out of the stands. Lyric stayed behind for a long while, before heading back to the castle. She was halfway back when she remembered the deal with Snape. Her feet suddenly become much heavier, and the wind was much harsher against her back.

Lyric dreaded this detention, as she dreaded all encounters with Snape. She never knew if he was going to make lighthearted jokes and be a civil man, or if he was going to insult her and act like an ass.

When she stepped inside Hogwarts, she could already hear the celebration of the Slytherins from their common room. Lyric decided to get the rest of her homework done before heading to detention.

She entered the Gryffindor common room to find Amarantha sitting on the couch, a splint on her nose, telling everyone her story. Heading up to her room, she caught sight of Keith, Peyton, and Tristan carrying large vat of green liquid into the common room.

"What the hell is that?" Jack Davenport, fresh from Madame Pomphrey, asked.

"We were brewing it in case we won, so we could get drunk and celebrate. But since that isn't the case, looks like we'll just have to get drunk and mourn our loss. Either way, we're drinking."

"Is that Absinthe?" asked one of the second year students.

"Indeed it is. Now this stuff is strong, I warn you. Everyone under fifteen, you get one small glass. No more, no less. Everyone else can drink at their own discretion, but I am giving fair warning."

As Gryffindors crowded around for their serving, Lyric shook her head in disgust. "Tristan Merton. I didn't actually think you'd be dumb enough to serve this. Aren't you at all worried about the toxicity of the thujone oil?" At hearing the word _toxicity_ most students backed away from the vat.

"Honestly Lyric, when did you become such a downer? Have you made it your job to rain on everybody's parade? For your information, I checked this stuff out myself last night, it's not poisonous, it's not going to cause brain damage, and it's a good brew. I realize that you've forgotten how to have fun around her; but I, fortunately, have not. So please let us be."

Gryffindors stared at Lyric puzzled that these two were no so cruel when they once had been best friends.

"Forgive me Tristan for looking out for the welfare of these people. I know it's something you've never worried about, so I figured I could help some of my fellow Gryffindors out. Whenever I'm about to consume a potentially toxic substance, I enjoy a head up. But since you seem to speak for everyone here, I will no longer concern myself with matters such as that."

And with that, Lyric stormed up to her room. She slammed the door shut and began to cry.

* * *

_I'll be back with more soon. I promise._


	21. Isn't This What You Wanted

_I am officially done with finals, so I celebrated with: Another Chapter!_

**Chpt 20- Isn't This What You Wanted?**

Lyric sat teary-eyed on her bed as the Gryffindor's self-named Pity Party raged on below her. She didn't do any of the homework she had planned on doing, but just sat and watched the minutes tick away on the clock. As eight o'clock neared, the lump in Lyric's stomach swelled until she felt she was going to be sick.

Out the window, the rain had now turned to snow. It was the middle of November, and winter had arrived. Lyric sighed thinking that just a week ago, she had been enjoying the warm sun.

As Lyric watched the snow swirling around the castle, she lost track of the time. When she heard the clock strike eight, she finally woke from her revere.

"Shit!" she ran out of her room and past the party.

"Hey Lyric!" Tristan called after her above the music.

Lyric stopped at the door, wanting to leave without talking to him. But she was compelled to stay.

"Where you off to?" he asked. As Tristan took a step towards her, he stumbled.

"I have detention," Lyric answered, smelling the alcohol on Tristan's breath. "Remember? I'm responsible for your mess."

"You didn't have to be. Rita was going down for what we did-"

"For what _you_ did!" Lyric interrupted. "There is no _we_, Tristan. You did it. Don't ever forget that." Without letting Tristan defend himself, Lyric turned on her heels and was out the door.

Her mind going a mile a minute, Lyric made no rush to get to Snape's office. When she finally did walk in the door, she was fuming.

"Miss Dumbledore, I see that punctuality is an issue for you. Perhaps you'd like to be here tomorrow night as well?"

Lyric was ready to explode at Snape, but she bite her tongue. "Sorry Sir, I was distracted with other homework."

"A likely story. I heard the racket coming from your house. Are the Gryffindors stupid enough to celebrate when they lose?"

"I wasn't a part of the celebration, I wouldn't know," Lyric hissed at her professor. "May I please get started serving my detention?"

"You didn't have the courtesy to be on time, yet you think I will jump up to do as you ask? Funny, you seem to believe that world revolves around you. But I guess that's what happens when you're the headmaster's niece. Spoiled little-"

"Professor Snape!" Lyric snapped, cutting him off. "I have had a really bad day. I beg you, do not push me right now, for even I don't know how I might react."

Snape stared open-mouthed for a moment. Lyric was expecting him to snap back at her, threaten her with expulsion, but he surprised her instead. "Bookshelf," he said, indicating the large shelves against the far wall. I'm tired of not being able to find the books I need. Alphabetizing them should take you the rest of the detention." Snape turned, his robes swishing around him as he went back to his desk to sit down.

Lyric was a bit taken aback by his sudden apathy. Almost as though she had wanted to pick a fight with Snape. While setting to work on the bookshelves, Lyric began to wonder why she had such a disdain for Snape. She paused her work to look at him. Snape sat hunched over a number of student papers. His hair hung around his down turned face, outlining his strong features. His quill scratched across the parchment, with hardly a pause when he finished with one paper and grabbed another. A cup of steaming tea sat untouched on the desk.

"Miss Dumbledore, I believe that your job would be done much more quickly if you would stop staring at me," he hissed without looking up from his desk.

Lyric turned her attention back to her work, but it wasn't long before she found herself peeking over her shoulder again.

"Perhaps I was unclear earlier. Miss Dumbledore, your persistent staring is annoying me and keeping you from doing your work. Stop it."

Lyric paused, still staring at her professor. All of the questions that had been nagging at the back of her brain suddenly came to head at once. She couldn't stop herself from finding out the answer.

"Why didn't you expel me?" she asked.

"We've been over this, Miss Dumbledore. I don't have an answer for you, unless of course you wish to tell me why you would play such a cruel joke." Snape threw down his quill and came out from behind his desk.

"I was angry." Lyric said, taking a few steps closer to Snape.

"At me? What could I possibly have done to get in your bad graces?" Snape said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning up against his desk.

"If I have to tell you that, you're not as smart as you think." Lyric said, before turning back to the bookcases. The silence was unnerving, but Lyric kept at her work. She was nearly to the _D_s before curiosity got the better of her.

Lyric slowly turned her head around. Snape was in the same position: arms crossed, leaning against the desk. He was staring intently at Lyric and made no attempt to hide it.

"Use a Freezing Charm, it'll last longer," Lyric shot at her professor.

But Snape didn't say a thing.

Lyric tried to shrug it off, and turn back around. It was only a minute later before she had to turn back around, and again, he was staring. "Professor, do you mind?"

"Not at all Miss Dumbledore. It's just that… I enjoy watching you work."

Lyric wasn't sure what he meant. If he liked watching HER work or if her liked watching her WORK. Either way, it was annoying. She threw down the books that were in her hands and turned her body towards Snape. She meant to stride over to him smoothly, but the second she put her foot out, she tripped over a stack of books. Before she could stop herself, she fell flat on the floor. She looked up at the Snape, completely embarrassed.

He stared back at her, his face unmoving. But Lyric could swear she saw a flicker of amusement in his eyes. She picked herself off the floor, and took a graceful step towards him. Lyric focused all her attention on trying not to shake. She felt anger, intrigue, fear, and desire all at the same time, and had no idea what to do with it.

"Professor?"

"Yes Lyric?"

Lyric was struck by hearing him say her first name. She paused for a moment, but then gingerly placed her hand on Snape's waist.

Snape didn't skip a beat. He enveloped Lyric in his arms and pulled her in. She angled her face to him and pressed her lips firmly against his. She kissed him so hard it nearly hurt, but she had never felt anything so invigorating in her life. She parted her lips, prompting Snape to do the same. His tongue playfully licked at her lips before delving deep into her throat. Lyric gave a gasp of surprise, but it was drowned in their kiss.

Lyric had dated few boys at Hogwarts. Peyton and she had tried to date in their fifth year, but it never really worked out, mostly because Lyric refused to let him touch her. And she had kissed Jack Davenport their fourth year under the Christmas Mistletoe, but Lyric walked away from that experience with huge disappointment and a wet face. And the past summer had brought about a few random snogs, but most of the boys were just in Fiji on vacation.

But this kiss with Snape topped them all. Snape had experience. He was forceful, but gentle. Yearning, yet restrained.

Lyric felt warm hands move to her sides and slowly up and down her torso, propelling her into a state of utter arousal. She threw her arms around his neck and grappled at his hair, which didn't feel greasy, but soft and sleek.

It was nearly a lifetime before either came up for air. When they did, Snape looked into Lyric's eyes. Then almost violently, he shoved her away.

Lyric, shocked, stared open-mouthed at her professor. "Isn't that what you wanted?" she asked coldly.

"No! You're a student, and you're just a child."

"I'm not a child!" she yelled.

"Miss Dumbledore, you're seventeen years old and you're my student. I shouldn't be abusing my power like this. The wizarding world already has me pegged as a Death Eater, now they can add child molester to the list."

"It was not molestation, I started it!" Lyric pleaded with her professor. She tried to place her hand on his chest, but he moved away as though she were a leper.

"They'll think I was taking advantage of you."

"You're not taking advantage of me. This is what I wanted, too."

Those words seemed to catch Snape's attention, as he stopped arguing. The two stared at each other for a moment, and that's when they both noticed the other person in the room.

_Heehee. Don't you hate cliffies?_


	22. Deny

_Short chapter, sorry._

**Chpt. 21- Deny**

"Tristan!" Lyric shouted at her former friend. Tristan was standing, leaning against the doorway, carrying a half-empty glass of green liquid, shaking his head accusatorily.

"Mr. Merton, you are outside of your house past curfew," Snape snapped at him.

"True Professor. But I'm not the one molesting one of my students," Tristan said, taking a labored step into the room. He threw his glass against the opposite wall, it shattered and fell quickly. "I'm not a sick bastard like you," he slurred.

"Tristan, are you drunk?" Lyric asked, taking a step towards him.

"The question, my d-dear," Tristan stumbled over his feet and his words, "is, am _I_ drunk? No, I mean, are _you_ drunk? You're kissing that greasy-haired, Death-Eating Scum excuse of a witch. Or wizard. I forget which." Tristan's eyes darted around in his head as his eyelids fought to stay open. Tristan, having a brief moment of clarity, stood upright for a moment before falling onto the cold stone floor.

"Tristan!" Lyric knelt down to him. "Are you okay?"

"I love you!" he shouted into the ground. "And I miss you, and also… I love you," he began to sob. "Why did you kiss him? You're supposed to kiss me." Lyric pulled him up so he was sitting upright.

"Tristan, I-" Lyric started to say.

"Enough, Mr. Merton!" Snape commanded.

"Shut it, old man," Tristan tried to get off the ground, but failed to get his feet under him, "if I ever get off this floor, I'm gonna kick…your bat-like arse."

"Tristan, stop it. We need to get you to bed."

"To bed? He ought to be expelled for being drunk on school grounds. Off of homemade Absinthe, no less." Snape countered, circling Tristan as he fought to get off the ground.

"Professor Snape, I sincerely doubt you'd like Tristan to speak to the Headmaster right now." Lyric shot at Snape as she helped Tristan get to his feet. At this point, Tristan was too drunk to really do much of anything.

"Miss Dumbledore, that decision is up to me," Snape countered.

"Oh, and you're willing to risk your termination and exile just so he'll get a few detentions with McGonagall?" Lyric yelled back.

"Exile, Miss Dumbledore? That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Professor, but I am taking him back to his room to sleep it off," Lyric grunted pulling Tristan off the ground, as he had now gone to sleep. "Tomorrow's hangover will be punishment enough for him. If you really want to stop me, you'll have to call out McGonagall or my uncle. I doubt you'd want either one of them to hear what Tristan has to say. The choice is yours." Lyric drew her wand from her pocket, "_Mobilus corpus_!" she shouted at Tristan as he instantly began floating.

"Lyric?" Snape seemed to have snapped out of professor mode again.

"Professor Snape," Lyric answered curtly, holding back tears.

"How do you know he won't say anything to McGonagall in the morning?"

"Sir, after a night of drinking, Tristan can barely remember his own name. So I sincerely doubt _this_ will be in the foreground of his memory."

"And if he does?"

"We'll do what you do best, Professor. Deny, deny, deny." Lyric wouldn't let Snape counter a response as she pulled Tristan out of the room.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Lyric surveyed the remains of the party. It wasn't very late, but the Absinthe had been strong. Students lay sleeping on the couches, chairs, floor, and even a few on the coffee table. She shook her head as she took Tristan to his room and laid him on his bed.

Lyric surveyed her friend as he lay sleeping. She had been bluffing that he would not remember the incident, but she had been desperate to get out of Snape's office.

'He kissed you,' she thought to herself. 'And you kissed him back.' Lyric wasn't trying to fool herself, she had enjoyed the kiss thoroughly. But she found herself hating Snape again. He made her feel guilty for it. Something so beautiful and so good, was now sullied by him.

Perhaps Tristan had been justified in what he had done. Lyric was also haunted by what he had said in Snape's office. 'You're supposed to kiss me.'

Lyric crawled into bed beside Tristan wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulders. Still asleep, he put his arms around her and snuggled her close.

As she lay listening to his heavy breathing, Lyric felt herself suddenly sleepy. Closing her eyes, she succumbed to her fatigue.

At that exact moment, Severus Snape had flung himself on the couch in his private quarters in front of a roaring fire. He sat swilling a large glass of Firewhiskey, silently praying that the Merton boy would not say a thing.


	23. Headlines

_Sorry about the long time between updates._

**  
Chpt. 23- Headlines**

It was almost noon when Lyric awoke. When she opened her eyes, she felt the warm body next to her hoping for just a minute that it was someone else. However, the prying eyes of Tristan's roommates affirmed the previous night. Keith and Peyton snickered quietly, making a rather lewd sexual gesture towards Tristan's bed.

Lyric pried herself away from the still unconscious Tristan. Shamefully, she ran out of the room and hurried to the girls' wing. As soon as she entered her room, Amarantha gave a little gasp.

"What?"

"Where have you been all morning?" Iona yelled at her from across the room.

"Sleeping," Lyric answered cautiously.

"With who exactly?" Griselda called from across the room.

"What do you mean?"

"So, I see you haven't gotten this morning's copy of the Wart Report," Griselda said with a smile as she waved a green piece of paper in front of Lyric's face.

Lyric's face twisted as she read the headline:

**_Lyric Dumbledore Covers for Secret Lover_**

_Sources inform reporters that delinquent student Lyric Dumbledore, who is best known for her heinous prank against Professor Snape was not entirely the guilty party. The perpetrator was in fact known trickster Tristan Merton. Merton and Dumbledore conspired in secret to get revenge on the newest Potion's professor, after Merton ran into trouble with the no nonsense attitude of Professor Snape. Merton has been under Snape's radar since his traditional "Embarrass the First Years" prank at the beginning of this year, and was eager to get back at the Professor while simultaneously framing innocent reporter Rita Skeeter for the incident. Merton, fearing being found out, then convinced long-time lover Lyric Dumbledore to take the blame, knowing she was likely to avoid expulsion given her familial relationship with the Headmaster. Lyric Dumbledore has since been serving detention with the Potion's master, and still continues with a contemptuous attitude. No word on whether the actual guilty party will come forward. Needless to say, this reporter will not rest until justice is brought, and both students are expelled for their behavior._

Lyric stared open-mouthed at the article, trying to take it all in. "Does anyone believe this?" Lyric asked her friends.

"Well…" Amarantha trailed off.

Griselda giggled slightly, "At first everyone questioned Rita's report, but seeing as how you and Tristan were the only students in Hogwarts not present at breakfast this morning, they all became very suspicious. But it wasn't until Peyton and Keith told the entire school that you spent the night in his bed that we all knew it really was true. Rita's pretty proud of herself for this one."

"Shut it, you evil snake," Iona growled.

"Listen, you miserable little mudblood," Griselda hissed back.

Before she could continue, Iona and Amarantha had grabbed their wands and pointed them dangerously at Griselda. "Leave now," Amarantha yelled, "this is none of your concern."

"You can't make me leave," Griselda whined, eyeing the wand she had left in her nightstand.

"Oh, I can," Iona chimed in, "if you won't leave on your own, I'll hex you into next week."

"If you use magic against me, you'll be expelled," Griselda plead.

"It'll be worth it," Iona countered, raising her wands above her head. "Leave."

"I will not take orders from a mud-"

"Finish that sentence, Griselda. I dare you," Amarantha steadied to wand closer to Griselda.

Griselda surveyed the room for a minute before turning around quietly. "This isn't over, you filth. Believe me." Griselda ran from the room.

When she was gone, Lyric collapsed on the bed. Her eyes stung as she fought back tears, she was tired of crying. "It's just one thing after another, isn't it?" Her friends put their arms around her, but Lyric barely felt it.

"Is it true?" Iona asked meekly.

"Is what true?" Lyric responded.

"You and Tristan?"

"No!" Lyric said offended.

"So, where were you last night?" Amarantha asked. "Were Keith and Peyton lying?"

"I spent the night with Tristan, but I didn't have sex with him."

The room was quiet for a moment. "You can tell us," Iona finally said.

Lyric was angry that Iona didn't believe her. "I didn't sleep with him! And if the two of you are going to start believing Skeeter, I think we're done," Lyric shouted.

Skipping down the stairs and quickly out of the Gryffindor common room, Lyric wasn't quite sure where to go. When she took a familiar turn into the dungeons, she knew exactly where she was going.

"Professor," she breathed into the room.

Snape glared at her from his desk, but didn't say a word. Lyric proceeded cautiously into the room. She stood before his desk waiting for him to speak. Looking down at his desk, she could see a bright green piece of paper poking out menacingly from below a stack of parchment. The silence grew in the cold room till it nearly pounded in Lyric's ears.

Finally, he spoke. "Miss Dumbledore, I have work to do. So either speak up or get out," he said, devoid of emotion.

"Sir, Skeeter is a liar," Lyric began, trying to hold back everything else she wanted to say.

"That's just not true, is it?" Snape asked unconvinced. "I have it on good authority that Mr. Merton was also involved in the prank, am I wrong?"

"Well no…but she's lying about everything else. Tristan and I are not involved, nor have we ever-"

"Miss Dumbledore, your consorted love-life is no concern of mine," he snapped.

"Now that's just not true, is it?" Lyric mimicked. "It was a sincere concern of yours last night, wasn't it?"

"I've no idea what you are talking about,"

"Bullocks!" she shouted at him. Snape peered to the hallway to see if anyone had heard her outburst. Lyric lowered her voice to a whisper, "Don't pretend it didn't happen," she hissed.

"As far as I'm concerned, it didn't. Now please leave me, I've work to finish," he said plainly.

"Fine," Lyric said backing away from his desk, "but just so you know, it was me in your room that night. I was my idea, my plan. Tristan was just along for the ride, and I'm not, not will I ever be _his_ lover." Lyric stomped out of the office.

"Lyric," Snape called before she got to the door. Her heart gave a flutter to hear her name from his mouth again. But then he paused, groping for words.

"What?" she asked.

"You've detention on Tuesday, eigh-"

"Eight o'clock sharp, I know Professor," Lyric was disheartened that he hadn't said anything else.

Making her way back to Gryffindor, she caught sight of a flash of blonde hair in front of her. "Rita!" she yelled and she began taking long strides to catch up with her.

Rita turned around slowly, her eyes wide with fear. She took in a breath of air to gain some bravery. "If it isn't my favorite headline," she said coolly, but slowly backing away from Lyric.

"Keep up the good work," Lyric said evilly, staring Rita down.

"What do you mean by that?" Rita asked suspiciously.

Lyric spoke ominously in the manner of Professor Trelawney. "Keep. It. Up." And with that, Lyric whipped past Rita leaving her in the hallway, utterly confused.

_I promise more soon. Thanks for the reviews. _


	24. Worth It

_Oh wow! I'm back and I've a whole lot of new fans. Welcome all. Sorry for the delay. Hope to have another chapter or two up by the weekend. Thanks _dani's random fox_ for beta-ing._

**Chpt. 24- Worth It**

Lyric collapsed into the dusty armchair in front of her uncle. He didn't look up at her, but smiled when she sat down.

"It's about time you came to visit me," he said, still not looking at Lyric.

"I've been busy," Lyric told him.

"So it seems. Have you heard from your mother?"

"Not a single letter since I got here," Lyric said.

"I'm sure you'll see her over the holidays," Dumbledore reassured.

"Of course," Lyric answered coolly, knowing that her mother would feign having too much work just days before Lyric was supposed to leave Hogwarts.

And from there, the conversation died. Lyric, who would normally regal her uncle with stories of Tristan and her friends or about school work, found herself with nothing to tell him. She couldn't tell him about the only person she could think about. Snape had taken up a permanent residence in her head, no matter how hard she tried to get him out.

Snape had paid little attention to Lyric in Potions class Monday morning. She even sabotaged a relatively simple Energy Potion in the hopes that Snape would make some snide comment, giving her the opportunity to shoot back. However, Snape merely furrowed his brow when he got to her cauldron.

"You were supposed to use Chimera _scales_, not Chimera _fur_, Miss Dumbledore. You'll receive a zero for the assignment." He made a mark on his grade sheet and moved on. Grace Hart, who had only let her potion stew an extra ten seconds too long, was on the receiving end of a thorough berating, and Lyric found herself jealous.

Now she sat in her uncle's office, only ten minutes away from another detention. Dumbledore had noticed the dip in conversation.

"You're awfully quiet tonight," Dumbledore said outright.

"Sorry, Uncle Albus," she sighed. "Too much on my mind, I guess."

"Is it love?" he asked.

Lyric could feel the color rush to her cheeks. "What? NO!" She didn't even convince herself.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Judging by your reaction, I believe I hit the nail on the head."

"Uncle Albus," Lyric started embarrassed.

"No need to explain," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Back in my days as a student, the ladies couldn't keep their hands off me."

"Uncle Albus!" Lyric exclaimed, "That's disgusting!"

The old man chuckled, "Well perhaps it is, but it does make me well qualified to give advice."

Lyric had to laugh at her uncle, "What advice is that?"

"It's not so much advice, as it is a question that you must ask of everyone you become involved with or wish you could become involved with."

"What's the question?"

Dumbledore grabbed Lyric's shoulder, "Is he worth it?" he said slowly for dramatic effect.

Lyric thought for a moment. "I don't know the answer to that," she said.

"Then perhaps, he isn't." Dumbledore said, pulling his niece in for a hug. "But what do I know; I'm just an old fool. Now you better get going or you'll be late for Professor Snape."

"Thanks," Lyric said, smiling at her uncle. But as she left his room, her smile faded. His advice hadn't solved anything. In fact, it had made her more confused. She wandered through the halls to Snape's office.

Lyric was about to step inside the office when Snape yelled at her, "You're late Miss Dumbledore."

Lyric stopped short of the doorway. "Am not," she protested. As she said it, the clock struck eight.

"Now you are," Snape said without a single flicker of amusement. Lyric scowled at him.

"How can I help you tonight, Sir?" she asked stepping into the office.

"Finish with the bookshelves," he said waving Lyric off towards the back of his office.

Lyric said nothing in response; she simply set about her work. As she ran her fingers over the hundreds of dusty leather-bound books, she found herself thinking again of the Muggle literature in Snape's bedroom. Her mind flashed briefly to an image of Snape kicked back in his quarters, a book balanced on his chest and a glass of Fire whiskey clasped peacefully in his hand.

She snapped back to reality to find Snape hunched over his desk, a mountain of parchment scattered in front of him, and a cup of untouched tea still steaming. 'Close enough,' she thought to herself with a smile.

The silence droned on in the room, driving Lyric crazy. Even when Snape was yelling at her, she still enjoyed the conversation more than complete silence. She decided that starting a battle with Snape was the only way to get him to talk to her.

"You've quite the impressive collection of books in your quarters," Lyric said, making conversation. Snape dropped his attention from his grading to glare at Lyric.

"I'd rather not discuss personal affairs, if that's alright with you," he said coldly.

"I'm just saying I enjoy Muggle literature too," Lyric pressed on pleasantly. "I should rather like to borrow a book or two."

"Miss Dumbledore-" Snape began.

"Have you got Shakespeare? I do love his plays" she gabbed on as she worked.

"Miss-"

Lyric cut him off again, "Macbeth was by far my favorite, though I disliked the portrayal of all witches as old, nasty hags. Nevertheless, truth be told, I _have_ met a number of witches that do fit that description..."

"That's enough-"

"I've always thought that Macbeth could be set in the 1920's American Gangster era, and no one would be able to tell it was Shakespeare."

"MISS DUMBLEDORE!" Snape yelled forcefully.

Snape was giving her a look that normally would have frightened her at once, but she now found herself enjoying his rage. It was attention from him after all.

"That is quite enough," he said. His volume was lower, but his tone had stayed the same. "It is impossible to work with you gabbing on and on like some silly schoolgirl."

"But I am a schoolgirl," Lyric responded, thinking she was being witty.

"Exactly my point," Snape snapped, burying his nose in his grading once again.

Lyric turned back to the bookshelves, suddenly remembering what her uncle had said.

'He may be worth it to me, but I'll never be worth it to him,' she thought sadly.


	25. A Sweet Taste of Liquor

_Finally, another chapter! It's getting to be Christmastime in my story. And Christmastime is when you tell the truth. So, ponder that for awhile. Thanks again to _dani's random fox_ for the beta-ing!_**  
**

**A Sweet Taste of Liquor**

The days dragged on into early night as winter quickly swept in and banished the lovely autumn days to next year. By mid-November, the first snow had begun to fall, and it didn't stop.

On a particularly chilly Friday morning, students awoke to find the grounds nearly two feet deep in pristine white powder. The school was suddenly abuzz with plans to enjoy the snowfall as soon as classes were finished.

Lyric sighed at the sight, knowing that any free time she had would be spent catching up on homework and not playing in the snow. No one else seemed to be having such a dilemma. At lunch, Iona and Amarantha were talking animatedly about challenging Tristan and Keith to a No-Holds-Barred snowball fight.

Tristan never gave Lyric any indication of what he had seen, or the night they spent together, or what he had told Lyric. So naturally, Lyric went on pretending it didn't happen. The only difference was that Tristan made it a point to stay out of Lyric's way.

While every other student went to enjoy the outdoors, Lyric made her way to the library laden with books. Avoiding Madame Pince, she snagged an armchair that was facing away from the front desk.

She had two essays in Cryptozoology due, not to mention a letter of declaration to prepare for if she ultimately decided to attend university. She started on the essays, as the prospect of actually going to university frightened her a little.

The library was eerily quiet, much to the delight of Madame Pince, who was eagerly reorganizing books without being bothered by students. Lyric didn't think Pince even knew she was there.

The library grew darker, and the sky outside started to fade. Lyric knew it was dinner in the Great Hall, but she didn't feel much like eating, so she continued to work. Lost in her work, she began to daydream lazily about tomorrow night's detention.

Lyric had started to consciously push Snape from her mind. Whenever she found herself think about him, she pinched herself. Hard. It rarely worked, but in any case, she was trying. At least she had stopped analyzing every word he said to her during class and detentions. She simply went back to ignoring him most of the time.

Snape was not making it easy. All of sudden, he started giving Lyric a hard time again. She seemed to always make a critical error in Potions, and she never really worked hard enough in detention. Rather than stand up to him, Lyric merely gave a curt "Sorry, Professor," and corrected her error.

Rita had also remained quiet, though Lyric knew she was looking for more dirt.

Lyric was unexpectedly awoken from her reverie by Mrs. Norris jumping onto her lap, spilling ink all over the essays she had just written. "Damn Cat!" she yelled, shooing the beast away. Not until she stood up did she realize that the library had gone completely dark and Madame Pince had gone. Looking at clock on the wall, she saw it was nearly eleven.

Mrs. Norris had fled the room, no doubt to get Filch, so Lyric high-tailed it out of the room. Struggling with her books, she took the long way to Gryffindor, so as to avoid Filch's office. Unfortunately, that meant swinging near Snape's office, but Lyric was almost sure he wouldn't still be there this late.

Wandering quietly down the hall, she stopped a few feet from his office. There was light coming from the open door, but she didn't hear a sound. Slowly she made her way past, taking a small peak inside. Snape sat at his desk, a glass of amber-colored liquid beside him, intently focusing on whatever he was doing. Past the door, Lyric let out a huge sigh of relief; he hadn't seen her.

A few feet down the hall, a loud cackle came from behind her. It was Peeves.

"Aha! Beer-nip!" he shouted with delight.

"Shhhhh," she hissed at him, but it was too late.

"Out of bed this hour of the night, Miss Dumbledore. Planning another late night prank are we?" Lyric turned to find Snape leaning up against the doorframe to his office. He had removed his long black robes and was wearing black slacks and a white, button-up shirt which was casually unbuttoned to reveal a hint of his sternum.

Peeves took off at the sight of Snape. After the incident in the store cupboard, Peeves was suddenly rather fearful of Snape.

"No Professor Snape, I was studying in the library and lost track of the hour."

He studied her for a moment, taking in the books she was carrying. "Perhaps," he said, "I should accompany you to Gryffindor. I'd hate Filch to give you even more detention than you have to deal with."

"No thank you, Professor. I'm sure I'll be fine." Lyric was painstakingly polite, not wanting to give Snape any reason to harass her.

"I insist." Snape stepped towards Lyric and leaned in close. A whiff of his breath clued Lyric in to what had been the amber-liquid he had been drinking. Moving his arms slowly towards her, he removed the books she had been carrying. "Let me." He gripped all of her books strong in one hand. He stepped onwards down the hall towards Gryffindor.

A bit dazed, Lyric turned to follow him. She was eager to get back to her room, but Snape lolled through the hallways with no sense of urgency.

"Tell me, Miss Dumbledore, all of the other students seemed to enjoying the change of weather, but you shut yourself up in the library."

"I'm a little behind on schoolwork, Sir. With detentions three times a week and a heavy course load, I have little free time to play."

"What are you studying, Miss Dumbledore?" Snape continued the conversation as though carrying on with an old friend.

"Cryptozoology, mainly," Lyric answered.

"Useless area," he mused.

"Not everyone beliefs that, sir," Lyric said, choosing her tone carefully so as not to bait him.

Snape gave a grunt of indifference. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Thank you for the advice, sir." Lyric said as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was snoring quietly. Lyric put her hands out to get her books back.

Snape went to hand them to her, but in doing so he leaned in and brushed his lips against Lyric's own.

Startled, Lyric dropped her books which forced the Fat Lady from her sleep.

"I was sleeping!" she said indignantly.

Lyric apologized quickly, but never broke Snape's gaze.

"Forgive us," Snape said, uncharacteristically charming, "but I was escorting Miss Dumbledore back from a late study session." He looked away from Lyric to smile at the Fat Lady, who was not amused.

Lyric bent down to get her books and Snape joined her, handing her the last book. "Evening, Miss Dumbledore."

Feeling her face burning, Lyric didn't look at him. "Good night, Professor Snape."

Snape rose and slowly ambled down the hallway. Lyric quietly watched him go.

"I haven't got all night!" the Fat Lady snapped.

"Sorry, um…_sanguine_," she said, giving the password.

"Finally," the Fat Lady closed her eyes to go back to sleep as she swung the portrait open.

Lyric scurried inside, not wanting to believe what had just happened. She licked her tingling lips. The faint hint of Firewhiskey confirmed it really was true.

She pinched herself hard enough to break the skin, but she still couldn't force him from her mind.

_That's all for now, but it's getting to be Christmastime in my story. And Christmastime is when you tell the truth. So, ponder that for awhile. _


	26. A Fortunate Fall

_Sorry it's been so long. But the stunning conclusion to the HP series inspired more to write. Yes, certain elements of my story are now rendered non-cannon, but I'll still keep on with my story without any spoilers to DH, except for one tiny story arc I was already considering for this story. Enjoy, I shall be back with more._

**Ch. 26 - An Unfortunate Fall**

The moment the sun peeked out from the east, Lyric was up. As her roommates continued to snore quietly, Lyric quickly got dressed and headed out into cold morning. This was another favorite tradition, an early walk in new snow. Though the students had made a sizable dent in yesterday's snow, another sprinkle of snowfall during the night left the grounds of Hogwarts fresh and untouched. As soon as Lyric stepped outside, the air froze in her lungs.

She pushed through the thick snowfall, just to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Fascinated by the animals that dwelled there, Lyric had spent a lot of time just standing near the forest, never quite brave enough to step in. Maybe it was the events of last night, maybe she was just too tired to think straight, but she couldn't help it today. She crept in, as though she were sneaking up on the forest.

She wasn't three trees in when a heavy hand clapped down on her shoulder. Lyric turned to find Filch glaring at her.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, smiling demonically. The old man was only too happy to have caught a student breaking the rules. "Best take this up with your uncle." And with that, he pulled Lyric out of the forest, and marched her back to the school.

No sooner had she and Filch rounded the first corner than Snape should appear. Snape was wearing a heavy cloak, as though he was headed outside. Lyric stopped short, while Filch kept trying to drag her on.

"What are you doing with a student at this hour?" Snape demanded from Filch. Lyric was a bit taken aback, as she had expected Snape's scorn to be directed at her.

"SHE was out in the forest at this hour. I was saving her life, and now I'm getting her in trouble. Any other questions?"

"I don't believe that's your duty, I'll take over from here," Snape grabbed a hold of Lyric's other arm.

Filch was defiant not to lose his opportunity to punish another student. "Like hell it's not," he spat back. He tightened his grip on Lyric's arm.

"For your information, Mr. Filch, I sent Miss Dumbledore into the forest to gather the rest of the sloe berries before the birds make off with the last of them."

Lyric smiled at Snape, grateful for his help. It didn't last long.

"Miss Dumbledore, do you have a death wish?" Snape asked accusingly.

"No sir," Lyric answered.

"Then perhaps you wouldn't be so daft as to wander into the forest alone. I expect you to wait for me next time. Come along now, there is other work to be done." Snape pulled hard on Lyric's arm, but Filch was ready to let go. He and Snape stared each other down a moment longer, before Filch released his grip and stormed down the corridors.

"Thank you," Lyric gasped as soon as Filch was out of sight. She was silent for a moment as she expected Snape to release his grip on her. "Excuse me," she demanded.

"I'm afraid, Miss Dumbledore, we have business to attend to."

"And what business would that be?"

"Picking the rest of the sloe berries."

"But sir-"

"Come along, Ms. Dumbledore, if you serve your detention this morning, you can be free this evening, does that sound fair?"

Lyric studied his face. Why was he suddenly being so nice? "I suppose," she ventured cautiously. She wondered if the previous night had anything to do with his sudden change in behavior.

Snape let go of Lyric and headed out to the grounds. She stared at his back for a moment before going after him.

Lyric followed close behind him till they reached the edge of the forest. "You've your wand, Miss Dumbledore."

"Yes sir."

"I suggest you keep it handy. Step beside me now, I'd like to keep you in sight."

As Lyric withdrew her wand, she poured over every possible meaning of what Snape had just said. They forged into the forest, Lyric hardly paying attention to her surroundings and more to the professor beside her. The forest floor had considerably less snow, however, this had left the ground icy and somewhat more difficult to navigate. Since she wasn't watching her steps, it wasn't long before she tripped over an exposed tree root.

Pain tore through her left knee as she felt it contact with a rock with a defiant crack. Her jeans ripped and the felt the rock rip a jagged wound in her knee.

"Bullocks!" she cursed loudly. She could feel a warm wetness surrounding her knee as her jeans turned a tell-tale shade of red.

"Language, Miss Dumbledore. Are you alright?"

"Not really," she said turning his attention to the blood.

Snape took a hold of the rip in her jeans and tore the material to expose her knee. The cold air rushed against her exposed skin, but soon his warm hands were moving up her leg. He stopped when he reached the fresh gap just below her knee and set pressure against the wound. This sent a pulse of pain through Lyric's nerves, but she moved her knee closer to him, not wanting his hands to let got.

"I've brought nothing for a wound, we best get you back to Madame Pomfrey."

"Just a moment longer," Lyric moaned, unable to stop herself.

"Lyric…Miss Dumbledore, there are a number of beasts in this forest that are catching a whiff of your blood as we speak. It does us no good to hang around the forest," Snape warned. He then took a handkerchief out of his pocket to tie around Lyric's knee.

As soon as he had tied up her knee Lyric stood up, but collapsed back down in pain. "I can't walk," she said pitifully.

"Of course not," he said. Lyric strained to tell if he was annoyed or not. "Come on then." Snape wrapped his arms around Lyric, hauling her upwards. "Lean on me then."

Lyric dug her arm underneath Snape's coat and along his back. She felt his warmth against her cold hands. Snape's hand snaked over her shoulder and held her fast.

They struggled against the uneven terrain, not saying a word to one another. Yet Lyric, nuzzled fast to his chest, couldn't help but take in the smell of him. He smelt of burning cedar and tea and just a hint of cologne. The same her father used to wear. Once the castle was in sight, Snape loosened his tight grip, and Lyric's hand came out from underneath his robes to rest outside of his clothing. Again, no words passed between them.

They came upon Professor McGonagall first. Upon the sight of them, she grabbed Lyric from Snape's arms. "I'll take her to the infirmary, Professor Snape," McGonagall was strangely firm about the matter. "You run and fetch her uncle."

Snape nodded in agreement to McGonagall, and took pains to avoid looking at Lyric. When he was out of earshot, McGonagall leaned in quietly, "How did this happen?"

"I tripped," Lyric answered, bewildered at McGonagall's behavior.

"Did he do this to you?"

"What? NO!" Lyric slowly understood that Professor McGonagall, along with a number of students and staff, did not entirely trust Snape as a teacher.

"Are you sure, dear. You can tell me," McGonagall pressed.

"I promise, it's nothing more than my own clumsiness."

The old witch was quiet for a moment. "What were you doing out there?"

"Serving my detention."

"At this hour?" The witch was livid.

"Professor Snape wanted the last of the sloe berries before the freeze or the birds wiped them out," Lyric explained. "He asked me if I'd rather serve a morning detention so that my evening would be free."

Professor McGonagall was silent the rest of the way to the infirmary.

Madame Pomfrey was busy attending to Lyric's knee when Snape and her uncle arrived.

"Lyric," her uncle called softly, "are you alright?"

"Yes, of course. Honestly, Uncle Albie, it's a scratch and a sprain. Nothing serious."

"What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?" he asked. Clearly, Snape had not already explained.

"Detention."

"At this hour?" Dumbledore exclaimed.

"Yes, I was with Snape. Uncle Albie, it was my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going and I tripped," Lyric could not understand her uncle's anger.

"Severus, students are not allowed into the Forbidden Forest until it's been cleared by me first. Even with a professor. It's far too dangerous. Please do not put my niece, or any other student, into danger without clearing it by me." And with that he turned and left. Professor McGonagall turned to follow him.

Lyric was speechless. She didn't realize things would escalate so quickly. "Professor Snape?"

"That is all for today."

Madame Pomfrey sent Lyric to her dormitory, insisting she stay off her knee until it healed entirely. Lyric was dying to see Snape, but she couldn't think of a good excuse to find him. Monday, Lyric walked into Potions eagerly, yet Snape was his same cold, distance self. He said nothing to her, not even of their standing detention the following night.

On Tuesday night, Lyric couldn't wait for dinner to be over. She practically ran to Snape's office, and was there early for once. "Evening, sir," she called cheerfully.

"Miss Dumbledore," he said with an air of indifference.

"What'll you have me doing tonight?" she said.

"Professor Sprout needs a hand with her Mandrakes tonight. Their leaves have gotten too long, and they refuse to have them trimmed. She figures you can get them while they're sleeping."

Lyric's face fell. She wanted to spend the evening with Snape. "So is that it, you'll be passing me off onto other professors from now on." She felt the anger rise in her throat. "Is this because you kissed me, or because you took me out into the forest when you had no business doing so? What exactly did you have in mind out there?" she yelled loudly.

Snape was silent, but Lyric could see the words he wanted to yell catch in his throat and flush his face. He waved his wand towards the door and it slammed shut behind her. "Do you want someone to hear?"

"Maybe I do, then at least you'd acknowledge it," she shot back.

Snape came out from behind his desk and grabbed Lyric's arm. "Miss Dumbledore, this has gone on far enough," he fumed quietly. "All of this is quite inappr-"

He was cut off by Lyric's mouth. She pressed her mouth firmly against his, drawing his body closer. All of the confusion and anger she had felt melted into his mouth. She slowly drew his tongue into her own mouth, feeling the warmth and the wetness of him. Her hands moved by themselves, tracing up his chest and around his neck.

Snape made no attempt to break the embrace. And when her arms wrapped around his neck, he responded by grabbing her hips and hoisting her up against him. At her new angle, Lyric moved her tongue into his mouth. Snape, nearly losing his step, brought Lyric to his desk, laying her out, knocking papers to the floor. All the while, their mouths never parted.

Snape crawled on top of her, domineering her, and pressing himself into her. His hands ran the length of her body, stopping momentarily on her breasts, sending shivers deep to her loins. This brought a moan from deep within her, it was barely audible in the silent room. Snape suddenly stopped, climbed off of Lyric and stumbled back across the room as though he had just realized she was a horrible poison he had just ingested.

"What?" Lyric cried, catching her breath.

"I can't," he pleaded.

"But-"

"We can't!" he hissed.

Lyric suddenly felt like a fool. She slowly stood up. "I guess I'll go to help Professor Sprout then?" she asked. She was actually glad to get far away from Snape at the moment.

"You misunderstood me earlier," Snape said, finally regaining some composure. I told Professor Sprout we'd do it for her, she's got other things to attend to this evening. Do you have a coat?"

"No sir," Lyric answered meekly.

"Here," Snape extended his own coat to her, pulling another cloak on for himself.

The coat swallowed her whole, leaving very little of her showing. Lyric felt it a blessing. Yet, it carried his scent. The cedar and the tea and the cologne mixed in her head, clouding her judgment further.

The blast of cold air rushed against her face, yet did nothing to calm the arousal she still felt. She followed close behind Snape, not daring to step beside him.

The walk to the greenhouses was short. The cold was quickly eradicated as a blast of warm, moist air ran against her face. Snape removed his cloak and took the coat from Lyric. He said nothing. Handing Lyric a pair of earmuffs and garden shears, they set to work.

The tension sat between them, growing with every glance, or the occasional accidental touch. The Mandrakes remained asleep, so the job went quicker than expected. Snape thrust the coat back at Lyric, and headed out into the night.

It was a beautiful night. The snow fell quietly on the grounds, silencing any life. The light from the castle fell onto the white snow, making it glow. Each breath Lyric took escaped in a white cloud into the night sky. Lyric stopped to take it all in.

Snape was nearly a dozen yards ahead before he realized Lyric was no longer following him. He turned to see her in the snowy moonlight, staring up at the sky, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Lyric turned to Snape, her green eyes alive in the night and smiled slightly at him, wanted desperately to get rid of the awkward silence between them. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her, but he couldn't.

Turning his back to her, he started back to the castle leaving her alone with the snowfall.

_ More to come soon, I promise. Sorry for any mistakes, didn't want to wait to have this beta'd. _


End file.
